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EACH AND ALL
THE SEVEN LITTLE SISTERS PROVE
A COMPANION TO
■THE SEVEN LITTLE SISTERS WHO LIVE ON THE ROUND
BALL THAT FLOATS IN THE AIR," "TEN BOYS
WHO 1.IVED ON THE ROAD FROM LONG
AGO TO NOW," "GEOGRAPHICAL
GINN & COMPANY
BOSTON • NEW YORK • CHICAGO • LONDON
■HI NEV; YORK
ASTOR, LENOX AND
R 1921 L
Copyright, 1877, 1885
By lee and SHEPARD
By GINN & COMPANY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
tgfte atftengum jgrcgg
GINN & COMPANY • PRO-
PRIETORS . BOSTON . U.S.A.
M^v^it anil ^nUretos
AND TO THE FOUR YOUNGEST MEMBERS OF MY SCHOOL
5Bo5S"ie, €bitb, 5BaDie, anb <15eor0ic
THIS LITTLE BOOK
A Pupil's Recollections of Miss Andrews' School
The Story of Agoonack and her Sail upon the
A Long Journey through a Strange Land
What was Gemila doing all this time .
New Work for Pen-se and Lin .
Can the Little Brown Baby do Anything
Christmas Time again for Louise
A PUPIL'S RECOLLECTIONS OF MISS
One of my greatest delights while a pupil
at Miss Andrews' school — and I remember my
attendance there as one long delight — was the
coming of December ist, her birthday and mine.
It was her custom to celebrate the birthdays of
her scholars by allowing them to select in part
the lessons and exercises for the day, a joyful
privilege which was of course shared by all, though
the pride of planning with her the session of our
double anniversary was mine alone. All the
birthdays were occasions to remember, for the
final hour was pretty sure to be given up to a
story. '' Story " was what we always called it,
though it might, indeed, be story, play, or poem,
or selection from either, or a chapter from an
unfinished book of her own. When it was the
latter she used always to ask for our criticisms,
which we were not at all afraid to give, though
vi A PtipiVs Recollections of
I never remember them as being anything other
than enthusiastically favorable. But we appre-
ciated the honor of being asked, and occasion-
ally offered suggestions for further adventures of
the " Seven Little Sisters," which were of too
extravagant and thrilling a nature to be adopted.
Next to birthdays, the days which we m.ost
prized were the very stormy ones, when but few
were present, for these, too, brought stories,
geographical games, experiments, and other vari-
ations from the usual routine. There was an
ardent rivalry between the pupils regarding these
days, and few of us started for school on a tem-
pestuous morning without reckoning mentally
how many of our mates had timid parents who
would be likely to keep them at home. Many
a time, as I came panting up the stairs on a wild
day in winter, have I glanced along the row of
hat pegs, triumphant if most of them were empty,
disappointed if they held a row of dripping hoods
and mufflers. Once, in a storm so furious that I
had remained over night at the house of a school-
mate, she and I started the next morning through
drifts more than waist deep for school, where we
were, naturally, the only pupils. She lived nearer
than I, and struggled home again at noon, but
Miss Andrews kept me over night, and I had
Miss Andrews School, vii
the bliss of sleeping in the schoolroom itself, in
a bed made up on two settees.
We were all too fond of school to lose more of
it than could be helped. When Miss Andrews
was called to Boston on business about her books
she would leave us to keep school by ourselves,
appointing a special scholar to the charge of each
class. We wrote our report of the day on the
blackboard for her to see when she got home, and
we so felt the responsibility of being placed on
honor that the day was more likely to be one of
unusual good behavior than of disorder. Once,
and once only, I was willfully late to school.
Learning on the way that the ice had broken up
in the Merrimac and carried away a span of the
bridge, I turned aside and ran down to see the
sight. I returned to school after having seen it,
half an hour late, and very uncomfortable ; not
that I feared either punishment or scolding, but
some expression of disappointment, which I should
mind more than either. But Miss Andrews was
greatly interested in what I had seen, said she
was glad I went, and assured the school that if
she had known of it in time she would have taken
the whole of us down to the river herself.
Indeed, she often called our attention to matters
of local or national interest, and kept us as wide-
viii A PtipiVs Recollections of
awake and with as broad an outlook as possible.
During a presidential year she explained to us the
chief problems at issue between the two parties,
and there were few of us who did not become in
consequence very ardent young politicians. The
excitement and suspense of the Tilden-Hayes con-
test and the novel expedient of the Electoral Com-
mission roused the warmest interest in school, and
I remember running a half mile bareheaded, and
leaving my supper standing on the table, to tell
the final news to another girl as interested as I.
These are very trifling incidents, but, indeed, all
the school incidents that I recall are so, for the
history of a perfect school, like that of a fortunate
country, leaves little to relate. One thing which
was characteristic is that when one day we begged
Miss Andrews to give us a motto, we found it
shortly afterwards on the wall, done very daintily
in gold and blue — the words which I am sure
were the very best that could have been given to
us, well-intentioned, careless, inconsiderate, ex-
uberant youngsters that we were — Self-Control.
But it is not possible to give much of an idea of
a school where the central spring of everything
was the personality of the teacher. Going to
school to Miss Andrews was much more going to
Miss Andrews than going to school ; and far more
Miss Andrews School. ix
valuable than anything she taught us, well and
wisely as we were taught, was the contact with
her sweet and strong and noble nature. I think
I can say that the public opinion of that school
was of a higher standard than that of any school
or circle I have since encountered. However
faulty, mean, or childish the behavior of any of us,
I do not think there was one who did not respect
and admire what was good and fine, and often, if
not always, aspire to it. A pupil of that school
who left it with intelligence unawakened must
have been dull indeed; a pupil who left it with
no stirring of those finer guides to goodness,
sympathy, and the sense of honor, must have
been one in whom it was a task of little hope to
try to rouse them.
EACH AND ALL
THE STORY OF AGOONACK AND HER
SAIL UPON THE ICE ISLAND.
Do you remember Agoonack, the little
Esquimau girl who lived through the long
sunshine and the long darkness ?
I have had news of her lately. Do you
want to know what it is ? Then come w^th
me once more to the cold countries and
visit our old acquaintances, the seals and
the bears, and the chubby little girl and her
It is an April day. If we were at home
we should perhaps hear a bluebird sing.
There would be swelling leaf-buds on the
lilac and the horse-chestnut trees, and little
green tufts of grass pushing up here and
there in sunny spots, and out in the pine
2 Each and All.
woods I am sure we should find mayflowers.
But in the far-away cold countries there are
no such pleasant signs of spring ; and yet
there are some things that are very cheering
to the people who live there. Best of all,
there is the sun, that has come back again
after the long night and gives them now a
short day, just a few hours long. Then
Puseymut the seal, who knows that the
spring is coming, has begun to build her
curious house. And about these seal houses
I must tell you, for they are almost as curi-
ous and pretty as a bird's nest.
You know the seals live in the water.
And here the water is all covered with ice
— ice as thick as you are tall, little Edith,
and in some places very much thicker.
And on the top of the ice there is deep,
deep snow. Now, of what can the seal
build her house?
Ah ! you merry children who build snow
houses in winter know very well of what it
is built. See, I will make you a picture of
it, and the mother seal swimming in the
clear water just below. Here is the passage-
The Story of Agooiiack.
way or entry, cut through the clear, hard
ice. To make that was difficult work for
the mother seal, but she did it all herself.
See what a little doorway leads into the
pretty arched room above — a room whose
walls are of snow. It is shaped just like
an Esquimau house. Indeed, I have some-
times thought that the Esquimaux learned
of the seals how to make their houses. It
is hardly big enough, you will say, for the
4 Each and All.
mother seal to live in. No, she did n't build
it for herself. She can swim about wher-
ever she likes, come up to some little hole
in the ice for an occasional breath of fresh
air, creep out and sun herself if the day is
warm ; and, in short, she does n't seem to
need a house for herself.
For whom, then, is the little house }
Georgie thinks it must be for her baby.
And Georgie is right ; for in that pretty,
round house lies a little white baby seal, with
soft hazel eyes and tiny little flippers hardly
big enough to swdm with as yet. And she
lies there so snugly while the mother goes
away for food, and gives a little call of wel-
come when she hears her coming up the ice
entry that leads to the door.
On this April day Agoonack has on her
bearskin jumper and hood, and runs out on
the snow beside her father, wdio carries his
long spear in his hand. The sun is up and
sends level rays across the ice, and makes
the little girl think of warmth, although, if
she had a thermometer, she would see that
it stands at -30°; and that is colder than
The Story of Agoonack. 5
you have ever known it to be. She trots
briskly along beside her father, until with
a sudden "Hush!" and touch of his hand
on her shoulder he stops the child in the
shelter of a great iceberg, and, running
swiftly forward, with a sudden jump he
breaks through the snow crust, and has
come crashing down into the pretty seal
igloe, and seized the baby seal. The poor
little thing is so taken by surprise that it
can only utter a plaintive cry, which the
mother, swimming off in the clear water
under the ice, hears instantly, and she
hastens, as any mother would, to help her
Metek knows she will come, and he is
ready. Her smooth, round head and mild
eyes have scarcely appeared above the ice,
when she is struck by his spear and drawn
out throuo:h the hole. And now she will
furnish meat for dinner, oil for the lamp,
and boots for the men.
I think you would n't like to see all this ;
it would be too painful. But Agoonack is
used to it, and she knows besides, that, if
6 Each and All.
they catch no seals, they will have nothing
to eat; and hunger is to her as painful as
is death to this poor seal.
Do you remember where her father
stopped her while he ran forward to the
seal igloe ?
It was in the shelter of an iceberg,
was n't it, Dossie ?
Now, if he had known something about
the iceberg, I am sure he would never have
left his little daughter there alone ; indeed,
I think he would n't have liked to stop there
very long himself. Creep with me round
to the other side of the berg and up the
slippery slope a little way. Here is a nar-
row opening in the ice. It is like the
mouth of a little cave. Look in and see
the beautiful, clear, blue ice walls of this
crystal room. If we had come an hour
ago I believe you would have been ready
to turn and run quickly away, without stop-
ping to see that this is Mother Bruin's
nursery, and she and her two children were
at play in it.
" But who is Mother Bruin '^. "
The Story of Agoo7iack. 7
Why, don't you know ? she is the great
white bear, Nannook, as Agoonack calls
her. And, although she would be a very
surly creature if we should meet her on
the ice, at home here in the crystal nursery
she plays with the two cubs, rolls them
over with her paw, pats them, and cuddles
and hugs them as tenderly in her rough
way as your mother does you. And some-
times she takes them out sliding down the
steep snow hills, sitting on their hind legs,
and steering down, after a good coasting
place has been worn by their mamma. You
see, they have their little family pleasures.
I wish we might be friends with them, but,
unfortunately, they know very well that
Metek would rejoice to have their flesh for
meat, and their warm, shaggy skins for
clothes, so they return the compliment
and kill him if they can. And now you
see why he would n't have left Agoonack
there if he had known. But, fortunately
for the child, Mamma Bruin had taken little
Hugger and Growler out for a walk just at
that time, and she did not return until the
8 Each and All,
child and her father were safe at home, and
drinking seal's-blood soup for supper.
They have company, too, at supper to-
night; not that it is at all surprising for
them to have company, for any hunter who
has killed a seal never keeps it all to him-
self, but is always kind enough to invite his
neighbors to share his feast. But to-night
they have a rare and wonderful visitor —
Kudlunah, Metek calls him ; and, if we
knew the Esquimau language, we should
understand that this queer word means
" white man."
Never has Agoonack or little Sipsu seen
such a man. His cheeks are red, his eyes
are bright, and he has a curly beard ; his
voice is very pleasant, and he can speak a
few words of their own language. And out
of his pockets come treasures such as the
little ones have never dreamed of. The
shy little girl can hardly look up and say
" Thank you " when he puts a string of bright
beads round her neck ; and her father grunts
out his satisfaction over a knife, the best thing
to cut with that he ever saw in his life.
The Story of Agoonack. 9
But where did this white man come from ?
Ah, yes ! that is the greatest wonder, after
all ; for he points far away to the south to show
where his home is, and he says "oomiak"
(ship), when they wonder how he came so far.
To-night he will sleep in their hut, and to-
morrow, if they will go with him, he will show
them his great oomiak. And so, when the
seal feast is finished and the Kudlunah, as
well as the rest, has drunk his bowl of seal's-
blood soup, they lie down together.
In the morning Metek goes with the
stranger, but the others stay at home,
doubting whether it can be perfectly safe
to trust themselves in such company upon
so short an acquaintance. But Agoonack
thinks all day of the wonderful Kudlunah,
and she plays with her pretty beads, and
says over and over again softly to herself
" Koyenna, koyenna " (thanks, thanks).
And she is the first one to see her father
far in the distance, a black speck on the
moonlit snow, as he trudges homeward with
his hands full of presents and his head full
of strange and marvellous news.
lo Each and All.
You know it does n't make much differ-
ence to the Esquimaux whether they sit up
late or not, for the sunrise could hardly be
called the beginning of day at any time of
year ; and, sleep as late as they might in the
morning, nobody would cry : " What a shame
that the sun should find you in bed ! "
So this evening even little Sipsu cuddles
forgotten behind his mother, and listens
with wide-open mouth and eyes to the story
of the great oomiak built all of wood —
wood which you remember is so precious
in the Esquimau land — and as big as a
hundred kyaks. It is filled with pale-faced,
shaggy-bearded Kudlunahs, plenty of knives,
and, better than that, strange weapons,
stronger than spears, for out of them flashes
fire, and a seal will be struck dead with the
terrible noise that follows that flash.
Oh, that was a marvellous story ! Agoo-
nack could hardly believe it ; but she learned
by and by to be very familiar with the guns
and pistols, and very thankful for them, too.
You will see pretty soon how that came
about, for before a week has passed even
The Story of Agoonack. 1 1
the little girl herself has been on board the
great oomiak, and tasted the Kudlunahs'
food, a ship biscuit, as strange and unknown
to her as seal's-blood soup to you. Think
how funny it would be to taste for the first
time bread or cracker !
The child's mother, too, is made very
happy when she receives needles and thread
(so much better than her bone needles and
seal sinews) and a good pair of scissors, as
payment for the bag of eider down that she
gathered last summer when the ducks came
to make their nests among the rocks. The
exchange of these things as presents or in
trade shows them that the white men and the
Esquimaux can serve each other, and awakens
a very friendly feeling between them ; and
when Metek kills a seal or a bear the white
captain is always welcome at the feast.
When two or three months have passed,
the Kudlunahs are going away. They have
only stopped for a little while, to search
along the rocky shores for traces of some
lost friends of theirs who sailed that way
many years ago, and, finding none here,
12 Each and All.
they will push on through the icy seas,
hoping for better success farther north.
One day just before they started, Metek
was called down into the cabin of the ship
to see the captain, and when he came up
it was with a smile on his broad face, and a
look of great importance which made him
hold his head very high. What had the
captain been saying to him }
" Metek," he said, "you are a good hunter.
Will you go with us on this voyage to kill
seals and walruses for us .^^ I will teach you
to shoot, and give you a rifle ; and you shall
be paid with knives, guns, powder, and
Then Metek answered : " I will go with
the great captain, but I cannot leave my wife
and children behind. How could they live
alone } They cannot hunt ; they would die
Then the captain sat silent and thought-
ful for a minute or two, and at last, seeing
that what Metek had spoken was plainly
true, he answered: "Bring your wife and
children with you." It was this that made
The Story of Agoonack. 13
Metek so proud and happy, and he hurried
home with his news.
Ah ! now they must break up house-
keeping ; but that is an easy thing, easier
even than for Gemila in the desert, for her
father had mats and tents, and camels and
goats, and water bags. But Metek's family
had nothing at all to carry, except a seal-
skin drinking cup, a knife or two, the pre-
cious new sewing utensils, some strings of
beads, the clothes they wear, and one addi-
tional suit for summer, which the mother
has just sewed out of tuktoo, or reindeer
skin. So it is a very easy matter to make
the change, and the berth of the ship is a
luxurious bed for Sipsu and Agoonack.
I can't tell you all the wonderful things
that happened for the next few months, while
the great oomiak, after pushing through the
icy sea as far as it could go, was at last
frozen fast among the great ice floes; or
how Metek learned so well to shoot the seals
and the bears, and provide fresh meat for the
whole ship's company.
But we are coming to a very important
14 Each and All.
time — a time when the ice begins to break
up, and, tossed by the rising and falling
tides, it crowds and crushes the strong ship.
And at last one night, dark and very stormy
too, while the children, who are so used to
the thumping and tossing, are asleep rolled
up in bearskins, a great shout is heard
through the storm ; the ship is leaking
badly, and they must throw out upon the
ice as many things as possible.
The barrels and casks, the bundles of
skins, and the heavy boats are soon upon the
floe ; and in the hurry and confusion some-
body picks up the roll of skins in which the
children are sleeping, and they are tossed
out like any other bundle.
When at last the dim morning dawns,
behold, the ship has drifted away, and left
upon the great cake of floating ice a party
of fifteen men, besides Metek and his wife,
and the two little children who have crept
out of their nest of skins and are neither
surprised nor frightened at finding them-
selves in this strange position.
Think of it, children. How would you
The Story of Agoonack. 15
like it ? — a great cake of ice two or three
miles broad, almost like a floating island.
When the days are warm enough to thaw
a little, it moves with the moving water,
and freezes hard to the land or the icebergs
when a cold snap comes.
I believe you and I should be very much
troubled about it, and I dare say the captain
felt very anxious, but he did not say so ; he
tried to be cheerful and hopeful, and plan
what to do.
In some ways it is not so bad, you see,
because if they are floating in the water
they will meet both seals and walruses, and
can get something to eat. And there is
another good thing to remember — they are
drifting always southward, and that takes
them towards warmer seas, towards home
— at least, towards the Kudlunah's home.
But the way is long, and the ice boat may
not sail always steadily on as they would
like. You know they cannot steer it as
men do a ship, or even as you do your
sled. They must patiently let it take its
own way and its own time ; and what are
1 6 Each and All.
they to do for shelter and for fire, even if
food is plenty ?
I think the Kudlunahs would have been
poorly off, although they are so wise, if it
hadn't been for Esquimau Metek then.
See how he goes promptly to work to build
snow houses — igloes he calls them. The
ice floor is cold, to be sure, and the plat-
form of ice raised at one side for a bed
seems colder still when you lie down. But
there are two old canvas sails that will
serve for carpets, and in a few hours the
arched snow walls are finished, so high in
the middle that the captain himself can
stand upright; and a window one foot
square of clear ice lets in light enough to
see each other by, even when the seal-
blubber lamp is not burning. There is a
home for them, and a pretty comfortable
home too, they think. But it is now the
middle of October, and winter is coming.
To be sure, they have casks of pemican
and some barrels of biscuits, but it takes a
great deal of food to feed nineteen hungry
people every day ; and in the cold countries
The Story of Agoonack. 17
you have to eat a great deal more than we
do here. Food, as you will one day learn,
is like fuel for a little fire inside of you that
keeps you warm, and, the colder the weather
is, the more of that fuel is needed to keep
the fire burning.
Metek must hunt every day for seals.
Unfortunately it is just the time when the
bears are taking their long nap; for you
must know that they are very lazy fellows
in the winter, and creep away to some snug
hiding place, where they doze and dream
until early spring. It would n't be easy to
find that hiding place, so they can't expect
much bear's meat.
There is another reason why they dread
the winter. Who can tell me what it is }
" It must be the darkness," says Dadie.
You are right, my little boy; that is what
they dread, and what you and I should
dread too — not to see the sun day after
day and week after week, perhaps not even
to see each other's faces.
"But why don't they light their lamps?"
says Edith. Ah ! there may be a sad reason
1 8 Each a7td All.
for not doing that. Don't you remember
that if no seals are killed there will be no
oil for the lamps?
I cannot tell you all about it; the story is
too long and too sad. You see what the
dangers are, but neither you nor I, who live
so safely at home in our warm houses, and
find a good dinner on our tables every day,
can really understand how hard it was for
them. There were days of no light, no din-
ner, no comfort of any kind. There were
nights when the ice island cracked in two,
and one-half drifted away before morning.
There were times when the children moaned,
" I am so hungry," and their mother gave
them a little piece of sealskin to chew to
make believe it was meat.
Among the Kudlunahs was one who had
blue eyes and fair hair, and who spoke
sometimes in a language strange even to
his companions. He had come from the
river Rhine. Do you remember Louise and
Fritz and little Gretchen, who once lived
This man had a wise way of looking at the
The Story of Agoonack. 19
stars and finding out by them in what direc-
tion the ice island was drifting. He could
also tell you wonderful things about ice-
bergs, and about birds and beasts, and fishes
too ; in short, he was what we should call a
scientific man, but that hard word did n't
puzzle Agoonack as it does you, for she had
never heard it. Her only knowledge of Mr.
Meyer is his kindness to her when he one
day slips a bit of meat into her thin little
hand and says : " My little cousin at home
is no bigger than you, you poor child."
At last there was a time when the sun
came back. Oh, how glad they all were !
But even that blessing seemed to bring a
fresh trouble with it, for they had floated
now into warmer seas, and you all know
what the sunshine will do to the ice and
snow. It is very well that they should be
melted, we say; but then, we don't happen
to live on an ice island and in a snow
By and by the time comes when it is no
longer safe to sleep in the snow houses.
Cold as the nights are, they must be ready
20 ■ Each and AIL
at any minute to leap into the boat, should
the now tiny island crack in two. And the
poor boat is neither large nor strong.
They have drifted now so far southward
that the ice is breaking up all about them,
and, happily for them, the seals are sporting
in the spring sunshine.
It is the last day of April. To-morrow
will be May Day. You will have May fairs.
May parties. May flowers. What pleasure
will come to these poor people drifting in
the icy seas? Oh! it is something better
than May fairs, or parties, or even flowers.
They see the long black line of smoke made
by a steamer, miles away, but coming on
slowly, steadily, through the ice, to find
them. Is n't that the very, very best bless-
ing for them '^. And are n't you very, very
glad } I am sure that I am.
Oh, the comfort, the rest, and the safety !
And the way that sturdy little steamer puffs
and steams away towards home, with her load
of weary, thin, worn-out men ! Towards home,
did I say } But have n't they drifted far
beyond Agoonack's home, and now are n't
The Story of Agoonack. 2 1
they going still farther from it? That is
true. And, after the first relief of finding
themselves safe is over, Metek goes to the
Nalegak Soak (great captain) and asks how
he is ever to reach his home again. And
the captain comforts him with the promise
that, when they reach the United States, he
shall be sent safely back in the first ship that
goes up to the frozen seas for whale fishing ;
and in the meantime he and his wife and
children will see a new sight — whole cities
full of tall houses built of stone or wood, rail-
roads and factories, and, indeed, more won-
ders than they can name.
But all this while they are steaming stead-
ily on. They have left the icebergs far
behind them; grassy shores are sometimes
seen in the distance ; the sun is so hot at
noon that the fur clothing is uncomfortable,
but, unhappily, they have no other.
At last comes a day when they cast anchor
at a crowded wharf. The news of their res-
cue had been sent before them, and friends
have crowded down to welcome them home
again. Oh, there is such a hand-shaking
2 2 Each and AIL
and kissing ! Everybody forgets Agoonack
and Sipsu, who do not know what to make
of all the happy greetings. At least, they
can understand how glad the people are ;
that is something that can be told alike in
all languages. But it makes them feel all the
more lonely, for nobody is glad to see them.
But what little blue-eyed girl has her arms
about Mr. Meyer's neck? Now see, he is
leading her by the hand and looking on this
side and on that until he spies the little
Esquimau girl in her corner. He puts the
soft white hand into the little brown one
and says : " Louise, this is Agoonack, the
little girl who has drifted with us fifteen
hundred miles on the ice."
Louise, the fair-faced, sweet, clean little
girl; Agoonack, the dark and dirty — yes,
still dirty — little Esquimau, the lonely little
stranger in a strange land.
Louise looks her full in the face for one
minute, then her arms are round Aq^oo-
nack's neck, and her red lips are giving
her a hearty kiss of welcome.
They are little sisters, after all.
J (Mt -
A LONG JOURNEY THROUGH A
Who is this little girl sitting on the sand
bank in the broad valley where a few months
ago a swift river ran ?
Let us see what she is doing, and then
perhaps you will know who she is.
She has brought a bundle of tall reeds
from the bank and laid them beside her ;
and now notice how, with her flat palm, she
smooths a broad place on- the sand and
begins to drive in the reeds like posts, close
together and in a circle. Is n't it going to
be a little garden with a fence all around
it ? Watch a minute longer ; she is plaster-
ing her wall with damp clay, and while that
dries she has carefully measured off a bundle
of broad, stiff leaves, tied them firmly to-
gether at one end, and with her strong
fingers pulled them wide apart at the other,
so that they look like an open umbrella.
24 Each and All.
Do you know what that is for? It is a
roof, to be sure. And now she puts it care-
fully on top of the circular w^all, and then
she has a pretty little round house with
a pointed roof ; and you notice she left a
doorway in the first place.
" Why, it is Manenko ! " says Dossie.
Yes, it is Manenko, the little dark girl
who lived in the sunshine. She is building
a playhouse for herself, and you might build
one like it next summer, I think, if you
You knew her by the kind of house,
did n't you ? And you would have remem-
bered her in a minute more, when I had
told you that her little brother Shobo is sit-
ting beside her, trying to make a tiny spear
with a sharp barbed end, out of one of her
A great trouble has come to Manenko's
country since you first knew her. You re-
member the broad river where the hippo-
potamus used to sleep under the water, and
where the men used to come down in a
canoe loaded with elephants' tusks. That
A Long Journey. 25
beautiful, cool, swift-flowing river has dried
up, and our little Manenko is at this moment
building her playhouse in the very place
where the waves used to dance along over
the sandy bottom.
But why is this a great trouble ? I will
answer this question by asking you another.
Who can live without water to drink ? And
the simple round houses have no water
pipes, and the one well of the village is
already almost dry. The women are hold-
ing up their hands to the sky, and crying,
" Poola, poola ! " (rain, rain !) but the sky is
blue and clear, and not the smallest fleecy
cloud answ^ers their call ; and the men have
gone to the next village to ask the old
medicine man to come and make rain for
them, which you and I know very well he
will not be able to do. So this is really a
serious trouble, is n't it 1
Sekomi has been thoughtful for many
days. He has watched the sky, he has
looked sadly at the dry bed of the river;
and now a morning has come when there
seems no longer any hope, and he says:
26 Each and All,
" Where shall we drink water to-night ? "
But Maunka, the good mother, is more
cheerful. " Let us go to the mountain
country," she says. " Do you not see that
the river once ran down to us from the
mountains } There we shall find springs
and wells, build a new house, and live as
happily as we have here."
I am sure, dear children, that you will
think this good advice, for you all know
that the rivers come from the mountain
And so this whole family prepared to go
on a long journey through a strange land.
Perhaps some of you know what it is to
move. We moved once when I was a little
girl, and there were great wagons to carry
the furniture, and men to load and unload
them. It was a long and wearisome busi-
ness, I assure you.
Now we will see how Manenko's family
move. There are no horses and wagons
to carry anything, but they march on foot,
single file, and carry all the baggage them-
selves. First the father with his spear and
A Long Journey. 27
shield, bow and arrows, slung over his
shoulders. Then Zungo, the oldest son ;
he, too, carries bow and spear, and also a
load of sleeping-mats tied together with
rope made of palm fibre. Then follows the
mother. I hope some good children are
carrying all her bundles for her. But no;
see, she has the heaviest load of all. On
her head is the water jar, over her shoulders
all the family clothing and cooking utensils,
and in her hands the baskets and the short
hoes for hoeing corn. And more than all,
in the loose folds of her waist-cloth little
Shobo must ride when he is tired, some-
thing as Agoonack's little brother Sipsu
rode in his mother's jumper-hood.
Why did n't Manenko carry some of these
things for her mother .f* Only look at the
little girl, and you will be able to answer
the question. She, too, has a little water
jar on her head (and I think she carries it
more safely than any one of you could do),
and a basket of hard cakes, baked in the
ashes of the morning's fire, in her hand.
A smaller basket of honey is slung over
28 Each and All.
her shoulder, and all that is load enough for
a little girl.
If you ask why Sekomi and Zungo do not
carry more, I can only answer that I am
afraid they are not very thoughtful about
such things. However, nobody complains,
least of all the cheerful mother, who takes
up her burdens without a word ; and they
turn their faces towards the hill country.
The first day's march is not so very hard
if it were not for that thicket of wait-a-bit
thorn bushes past which the path led them.
Did you ever hear of the wait-a-bit thorn }
It tells its whole story in its name, for the
thorns are like little fish hooks, and, if once
they catch you, you must needs wait a bit
before you can get away. I am glad they
don't grow in this country. To-day they
tore long slits in Manenko's little cotton
skirt, the first and only garment that she
ever had, and she had only worn it a few
weeks ; you remember when you knew her
before, she did not wear clothes. I am sorry
the wait-a-bit has served her so unkindly, for
there is no cloth to make a new dress.
A Long Joztrney. 29
Just before sunset they find a pool of
muddy water, and on its borders great
heavy footmarks where the elephants have
been down to drink. This will be a good
camping place if they keep out of the ele-
phants' path, for the water jars are empty,
and here is a new supply to fill them for
to-morrow, and also to make some porridge
for supper. So the children gather sticks
for a fire, and Sekomi selects a sheltered
spot for the camp. But how shall they
light the fire ? Do you think Sekomi has
any matches in his pocket? In the first
place, he has n't any pocket ; and in the
second, they never heard of such a thing
as a match — a little stick with a fiery end;
they would look at it with wonder. No,
there are no matches, but Zungo will light
the fire, nevertheless.
He is looking about for a wild fig tree.
Finding one, he cuts a smooth twig, sharpens
it into a point, and, after wetting the point,
rolls it in the sand until some of the sharp,
shining bits stick to the wet end. Now it
is all ready for rubbing or twirling in the
30 Each and AIL
hollow of that piece of wood that he has
carried all day slung to his bundle of mats.
How hard he works, holding the pointed
stick straight in the hole, and twirling it
hard between his two hands, while his
mother waits beside him to catch the first
spark in a wisp of dried grass ! There, it is
smoking, and now the grass is smouldering,
and in a minute there will be a merry blaze
under the earthen chattie where the por-
ridge is to be cooked.
But before the porridge is well boiled a
long train of men and animals comes crash-
ing through the low bushes, and, while the
frightened family hides behind a rock, Se-
komi comes doubtfully forward to see who
the intruders are.
Two tall creatures with long necks, great
humps on their backs, and loaded with bales
and bundles of goods ; four little sturdy ani-
mals, not wholly unlike zebras excepting in
color; and, besides the six men with woolly
hair and dark faces like Sekomi's own, two
tall, grave-faced, straight-haired men whom
you would have known at once for Arabs,
A Long Jour7icy. 31
because you have heard about such people
who lived in the desert with Gemila. But
the o^reatest wonder of all is the man who
rides upon one of the smaller animals — a
white man ! Sekomi has heard that such
men come sometimes to the seacoast, but
he never before saw one ; and so, while he
wonders much at the camels and the don-
keys, strange beasts to him, he wonders
still more at a simple man who is in every
outward way as different from himself as
possible. He has a white skin instead of
a dark one, straight hair instead of wool,
blue eyes instead of black, and he wears
instead of the simple apron and mantle
of antelope skin, strange garments, so well
known to us as coat and pantaloons. But
the words that he speaks are the most
wonderful ; and yet Sekomi knows by their
sound that they are kind, although he can-
not understand their meaning until one of
the black interpreters hurries forward to
help about the talking.
Do you know what an interpreter is ? See
what he does, and then you will know. He
32 Each and All.
listens to the white man's talk, and then he
changes it into Sekomi's language, and so
makes them understand each other. Do
you want to hear what the white man says
" We have the same kind heavenly Father.
Let us be friends and like brothers."
But Sekomi is afraid. He can hardly be-
lieve it, and he answers :
" It cannot be so ; however much we wash
ourselves, we do not become white. It can-
not be that I have the same Father as
Bazungu " (white man).
Then the Bazungu speaks again in his
kindly voice and says : " It is not the skin
that makes us brothers ; it is the heart."
And now Sekomi dares to come forward
and touch the hand that is held out to him
in kindness, and clap his own as an act of
politeness. " And, since we are brothers,
my wife will give you porridge."
The Bazungu is tired and hungry, and
the porridge is hot and delicious, but before
eating it he gives Sekomi a piece of bright-
colored cloth from one of his bales, and he
A Long Jour7iey. 33
also calls Manenko and puts a string of red
and blue beads round her neck. The child
says timidly, " Motota, motota " (thanks),
and claps her hands as her mother has
taught her, for it would be very bad man-
ners not to clap your hands if any one gave
you a present.
The white man wants help, for one of his
camels is sick and tired and cannot carry
so great a load ; and to-morrow morning
the packages must be divided, and the
men must carry a part of them. He will
be glad of Sekomi's help and will pay him
one yard of calico a day. That is a great
price, and as Sekomi was going in the
same direction, he is very glad to earn
so much calico by carrying one of the
Do you wonder why he is n't paid in
money } He knows nothing about money.
In his country cloth and ivory and beads
are used instead, and a yard of calico is as
good as a dollar.
So the bargain is made, and the wages
agreed upon, and then the camp fires are
34 Each and All.
lighted to frighten away the lions, and all
lie down to sleep.
You would be surprised to see this fire.
We all know what a bright wood fire is, but
what should you think of a fire of ebony,
that fine black wood of which the piano
keys are made, and perhaps a stick of ma-
hogany or lignum-vitae added to it ? That
is all the wood they can find to burn, and
although the white man knows that it is
fine enough to be made into beautiful tables,
or desks, or pianos, the black people think
it of no value except for their fires.
In the side of the hill half a mile away is
a broad belt of black rock. It is coal, just
such coal as we burn in our grate, but when
the BazunQ^u shows it to his men and tells
them that it will make a hot fire, they
smile, and say, "Kodi" (really?), for they
don't believe it.
Very early in the morning Manenko hears
her mother rise quietly and take her grind-
ing stone, and begin to grind some corn
into flour. " Mother, why grind in the
dark } " asks the child.
A Long Journey. 35
" I grind meal to buy a cloth from the
stranger, and make you a little dress,"
answers the mother; and sure enough,
when the Bazungu comes out of his tent
at sunrise Maunka stands waiting with her
basket of fresh meal, and he gladly buys it
and gives the cloth. So the poor dress torn
by the wait-a-bit is replaced.
They are soon ready for the march. Se-
komi now carries a great bale of cloth, and
Zungo, too, has been employed to attend to
the white man's fires when they camp at
night. For this work he is to have a
strange kind of pay, stranger even than
the cloth ; it is the heads and necks of all
the animals that the white man may shoot
on the way. If he should shoot a rhinoceros,
I think there w^ould be meat enough in his
head to last the whole family several days,
but a little antelope's head would be only
enough for one dinner. At any rate, it is
a great help to them all to have this work
and this pay from the friendly stranger, and
they are ready to serve him in every way
that they can.
36 Each and All.
As they come near a village, they hear
the people shouting, " Malonda, malonda ! "
(Things for sale ; do you want to sell any
thing ?) and they find themselves just in
time to go to a market, which is being
held in the middle of the town.
Let us see what they have to sell. Here
is the blacksmith who has a forge on the
top of yonder ant-hill. He has been mak-
ing short-handled iron hoes and will sell
them for cloth or for honey, and honey is
very cheap — a whole gallon for one yard of
See these two nice girls with clean hands
and faces, and neat baskets full of some-
thing to eat. It looks very good, but I am
afraid you won't buy any when I tell you
that it is roasted white ants. But I don't
know why we should n't find it as agreeable
as a kungo cake that the women who live
by the lake have for sale, for a kungo cake
is a round, flat cake, an inch thick and as
large as a breakfast plate, made entirely of
boiled midges that are caught by the basket-
ful as they hover over the lake.
A Lo7ig Journey. 37
We will not buy either, but will give that
little naked girl a blue bead in payment for
a cup of fresh water, and then sit down in
the shade of a wild fig tree to watch the
others. Zungo has sold a spearhead, and has
in return some large, green, bitter melons.
They are too bitter to be eaten raw, but
will be very juicy and sweet when baked
in the ashes. Sekomi has spent all his
cloth for an ornament of ivory shaped like
a new moon, and he marches about the
town with it hanging round his neck, with
one horn over each shoulder.
There is one kind of food here that per-
haps we shall like. It is a sort of soup
made out of the blossoms of a pretty blue
flowering pea. The people call it "chilobe,"
and when they learn that the white man
never saw it before they exclaim : " What
a wretched country you must live in, if
you do not even have chilobe ! " But you
and I know that they have n't the least
idea how many other good things we have
On one side of the market place stand
38 Each and AIL
some men curiously marked on their backs,
shoulders, and arms. They are covered
with patterns pricked into their skins —
tattooed we should call it. There are
crosses and half-moons, and various other
figures ; and all the men of one family have
the same sort of mark, so that you can tell,
the minute you see one of them, whether
he is a moon-man or a cross-man. They
have brought salt to sell, for they live in
a place where the very earth tastes salt,
and if you take some of it and wash it
carefully, you can wash out little crystals
of clear white salt.
The Bazungu has bought a pot of fresh
butter, and when he eats his supper that
evening the black people look on with sur-
prise to see him eat butter raw, spread on
his bread ; and Maunka offers to melt it
for him, that he may dip his bread into it.
That is the way she would eat it.
And now I must tell you something
about the new country into which they
are coming. Already they have met little
rivers coming down from the mountains,
A Long Journey. 39
and the plains are covered with tall grass,
tall enough for tall men to play hide-and-
seek in ; and the buffalo and rhinoceros are
roaming there, thinking themselves safely
hidden from hunters.
There is need of meat in the camp, and
Bazungu plans a great hunt. The men
take their bows and spears, but the white
man has a "gun with six mouths, and the
balls travel far and hit hard." I suppose
we should call it a six-barrel revolver.
They leave the camp early one morning,
and as they will not return for two days the
men carry their " fumbas," or sleeping bags
of palm leaves, and the little mosamela, or
carved wooden pillow, hung over their
First they shoot a zebra, which they
think gives " the king of good meat." But
the buffalo and rhinoceros are not so easy
to approach, for each is guarded by a watch-
ful little bird sitting on its back and looking
out for dancrer. No sooner do the faith-
ful little sentinels catch a glimpse of spear
or bow than the buffalo bird calls out,
40 Each a7id All.
" Cha, cha, cha ! " and the rhinoceros bird,
" Tye, tye, tye ! " as much as to say to their
clumsy friends, in their own pretty language,
" Scamper, scamper, quick, quick ! " and
away gallop the great creatures, and it is
no easy matter to overtake them.
But there is always something to be had
for dinner, when all else fails. You know
the guinea hens with speckled backs, and
their funny call, " Come back, come back ! "
We see a few of them here, but in Manen-
ko's land they are very common — hundreds
and thousands of them to be found every-
where, and our hunters can have roasted or
boiled guinea hen, if nothing else ; only, in
that case, poor Zungo w^ill fare badly, for
the heads and necks are his, and very small
indeed they are as payment for cutting the
hard lignum-vitae and ebony for the fire-
wood. The good Bazungu, however, is kind
and thoughtful, and sometimes gives him
a whole fowl for dinner.
On the second day they kill two great
buffalo, and as they cannot carry all the
meat at once to camp, a part has to be left
A Lo7ig Jonrney. 41
among the bushes. When they go back
for it they hear a low growling, and, ap-
proaching cautiously, see a great lion tear-
ing the buffalo flesh and eating it as fast
as he can. Oh, what a pity, after all their
trouble in hunting ! And Sekomi calls out
boldly to the lion : " Why don't you kill
your own beef? Are you a chief, and so
mean as to steal what other people have
killed ? " For Sekomi believes that some
chiefs have the power of turning themselves
into lions, just as people do in fairy stories,
and he thinks this lion is really a man and
can understand what he says. But the lion
does not heed him ; he only growls and
goes on with his meal, and the buffalo meat
The white man cannot wait many days
for hunting, because he is on his way to
visit a great lake of which he has heard,
and to look for the source of a long river
of which you will know more some day.
So they are soon on the march again, and
the days are growing warmer and warmer,
for it is midsummer in that country. Mid-
42 Each and AIL
summer, did I say? It is just the 25th of
December, and do you know what day that
is ? " Christmas Day ! " you all exclaim.
Yes, it is Christmas Day; and the birds
are singing, the corn is springing up, and
the fields are full of gay flowers.
You all know the little humming birds
that you see dipping into the flowers on a
summer day. In Manenko's land there are
not many humming birds, but tiny sun birds
instead, no bigger than a great bumblebee,
and fluttering on swift-fanning wings over
the pomegranate flowers. The little weaver
birds, too, have put off their winter clothes
of sober brown, and are gayly dressed in
scarlet and black velvet. And here is one
little red-throated bird who has put on a
long train for summer wear, and finds it as
difficult to fly about with it as some ladies
do to walk with theirs.
I wish you could see the goat-sucker bird
that Zungo caught and brought into camp
on Christmas Day. He might have fol-
lowed it all day long, a month ago, and yet
have come home empty-handed; but the
A Long Journey, 43
vain little bird is now dressed with tw^o very
long feathers (as long as your arm) growing
out of each wing, and trailing so heavily
that, although at other times he flies too
swiftly for any one to catch him, he is now
slow and clumsy, and Zungo caught him
In spite of the hunting there is great
need of meat in the camp, and some of
the men are sick and cannot travel any
You may wonder why they can't buy
meat, as we do, of the butcher, but, besides
the fact that there is no butcher, there is
another great objection — there is no meat.
There are neither sheep nor oxen in this
part of the country, for the enemy has
driven them all away.
" What enemy," do you ask }
A little enemy not a thousandth part as
large as an ox, black and yellow in color,
and carrying a very sharp and dangerous
weapon. His name is tsetse, and he is a
terrible fly. He bites the oxen and the
sheep, and they sicken and in a few days
44 Each and AIL
die. And so determined is this fierce little
enemy that no sheep or oxen can live in the
country after he appears. For some reason
of his own, he does n't bite goats, and when
the white man brought camels and donkeys
it was because he thought they, too, would
be safe from the tsetse. But he was mis-
taken, for although he rubbed them with
lion's fat to keep them safe, knowing well
that the tsetse will not hurt the lion, yet
they were bitten, and one by one they died.
And now there are not men enough to carry
the loads which the animals used to carry,
and neither is there meat to eat ; so he de-
cides to send Zungo as a messenger to the
great chief, Kabobo, who lives thirty miles
away in a town where there is food in
He does not write a letter, for none of
these people can read; but this is the mes-
sage that he teaches to Zungo, and Zungo
must say it over and over to himself as he
travels along, that he may be sure not to
" Bazungu needs ten strong men, and
A Long Journey. 45
goats and corn. He will pay cloth and
beads, and he sends you this present to let
you know his friendship."
The present was a red shirt and a string of
clear white beads. It was carefully wrapped
in palm leaves, and Zungo carried it on his
Over and over again he repeated his mes-
sage and did not forget a single word, and
in four days his joyful shout was heard in
the distance, and he and his ten men were
soon welcomed with clapping of hands.
Kabobo had sent corn and palm wine, and
goats, and begged the great Bazungu to
visit him very soon.
But Bazungu cannot visit any one at
present, for the hot, damp weather has
made him very ill. He lies in his hut,
burning with fever; and poor little Ma-
nenko, too, lies on a mat beside her mother,
with hot, fevered hands, and dry, quick
breath. But, though he is so ill himself,
the stranger, when he hears of the sick
child, prepares for her a bitter little powder
like the one he is taking himself. Of
46 Each and AIL
course, the little girl does n't like the bitter
taste of it, but the next day she is better
and able to sit up, and soon she can go with
her mother to say "Motota" to the kind
Don't forget this bitter medicine, for you
will hear of it again before you finish this
In a few days they are all able to go to
Kabobo's village, and there, for the first
time in her life, Manenko sees a square
house. There are two or three of them in the
village, built by people who have travelled
away to the seacoast, and there seen houses
Around Kabobo's town are pleasant fields
and gardens, and everything is growing
finely, excepting one patch of corn, which
the men say they planted in the mouse
month and so lost half of it, for the mice
ate the seeds.
One meadow is covered with pure little
white lilies, and some medlar bushes hang
thick with blossoms. Among the tall reeds
you hear the brown ibis scream, " Ha,
A Long Journey, 47
ha, ha ! " and flocks of green pigeons are
feeding on the fruits of the wild fig tree.
Certainly it is a pleasant place, and after
their long journey Sekomi's family think
that here they will make their new home.
The women of the village look up pleas-
antly as they pass, and say : " Yambo ? "
(How are you ?) And they answer, " Yambo
Sana " (Very well). Everybody seems kind,
and glad to see the travellers.
So Maunka begins at once to build a
new house. And then she finds fine clay,
and shapes new water jars, smoothing them
into their beautiful rounded forms with her
hands, and marking them on the edge with
pretty braided patterns like that which you
see in the picture. And soon the new house
is well provided ; for twenty pots, for water,
for honey, and for porridge hang from the
But no sooner has Maunka built her
house than another builder comes quietly
in and goes to work to build hers in one
corner of it. It is the paper spider, and
Manenko sees her lay her forty or fifty
48 Each and All.
eggs upon the wall, and then begin to make
her pure white paper house to shelter them.
She thinks the mother spider is not so dif-
ferent from any other mother, and, instead
of driving her away, she watches while the
careful builder prepares her little paper wall,
half as big as the palm of Edith's hand, and
then fastens it firmly over the eggs by a
strip not wider than your finger-nail, pasted
strongly all round the edges.
For three long weeks she sits, like a
mother bird on her eggs, to keep them
warm ; after that she goes out for food in
the day, but always comes back to cuddle
them closely at night, and Manenko is
never afraid for her, but watches every day
to see when the little ones will come out
of the eggs.
Sekomi has been busy planting corn, and
also some seeds that the white man has
given him, and they already feel at home.
Their good friend the Bazungu has tried
to give them one present better even than
the cloth, or the beads, or the garden seeds ;
he has tried to teach Zungo and Manenko
A Long Journey. 49
to read. But, oh, what hard work it is !
You have no idea of the difficulty; and at
last one day poor Zungo says in despair:
" O Bazungu ! give me medicine ; I shall
drink it to make me understand." But you
and I know that the only medicine that can
make us learn is patience and perseverance ;
and even Zungo will learn in time if he has
You will all see by and by that even the
little knowledge of reading and speaking
English that he gained is a help to him,
for a few months later another white man
comes from the north to Kabobo's village,
and when he finds that Zungo can read a
little, and understands some words of Eng-
lish, he hires him as an interpreter, and
promises to take him on a long journey, pay
him well, and send him safely home again.
And now, before we leave them in their
new home, I must tell you of one thing that
happens to Manenko. She is getting to be
a great girl, and it is time for her to begin
to wear the pelele.
But what is the pelele 1
50 Each and All.
It is an ivory ring, but not for the finger,
or even for the ears. This poor child is go-
ing to have her upper lip bored, and this
ring will be put into the hole, not to hang
down, but to stand out straight and flat in
a very inconvenient way ; but everybody
thought it was beautiful, and even if the
little girl finds it painful she will not com-
plain, but will consider it quite an honor.
Her second teeth have come now, and they
must be filed away to points, so that they
look like a cat's little sharp teeth, and then
she is thought to look very pretty indeed.
The white man has made a picture of her,
dressed in her best beads, and carrying a
pretty new water jar on her head. He will
take it home to his own dear daughter, that
she may learn how her little dark sisters
look in this far-away land.
WHAT WAS GEMILA DOING ALL
We have been wandering through strange,
wild lands. Come with me now to a great
city. But I doubt if you feel more at home
in it than you did on Agoonack's ice island
or Manenko's long journey, for it is not at
all like any city you have ever seen — not
like Boston or New York, not like St. Louis
Let us stand still for a minute, if we can
find a quiet spot in this narrow, crowded
street, and see what it is like. It is Sunday
afternoon, but we hear no church bells, and
all the business seems to be going on just
the same as on a week day.
" Don't these people have any Sunday ? "
Oh, yes ! But their Sunday is Friday.
On Friday they will go to their churches,
and have their services ; but to-day is their
52 Each and All.
market day, and, in almost all the towns we
may visit in this country, we shall find a
We are close beside a shop now, but, oh !
what a funny shop ! hardly bigger than a
cupboard; and the whole side towards the
street is open. Will you buy some of these
sugared almonds, or a few delicious golden
dates, of that turbaned man who sits so
quietly in the corner, and does n't seem to
care whether we buy or not ? If we want
either dates or almonds, we must take a
piastre out of our pockets to pay for them,
for a bright silver dime or a five-cent piece
would be something so new and strange to
our shopkeeper, that he would shake his
head and hand it back to you.
But we mustn't spend too much time
buying dates. There is something better to
do in this wonderful city, where even the
houses are curious enough to make us stop
and gaze at them. See the pretty balconies
built out around the windows and sheltered
by screens or shutters of beautifully carved
wood. I fancy we can catch a glimpse of
What was Gemila Doing? 53
some bright eyes peeping out at us through
the delicate latticework, for all the ladies of
this city sit with their little daughters all
day long in these balconies, and look out
through the screens on the streets below
them, and on the passers-by. And the
flocks of pretty ring doves sit cooing about
them, and the swallows fly in and out, and
sometimes even the vultures alight there
for a moment, and no one drives them away ;
for what would become of the people and
the city if the faithful vultures did not clean
the streets every day ?
But, quick, we must crowd ourselves close
to the W'all, and keep out of the way of the
tall, brown camel that paces up the street so
silently that w^e heard no footfall, and did
not know he was coming until his long
shadow fell across us from behind. He
moves up the narrow lane as if the whole
of it belonged to him, for he has come from
the desert, where there is plenty of room,
and he has no idea of being crowded ; and
those donkeys, with their wild-looking little
drivers, must get out of his way as best they
54 Each and All.
can. How they scramble, and how the boys
shout to them ! But the silent camel moves
on towards the fountain in the next square,
and takes no notice at all of their noise.
He is loaded with great bales of gum, and
his master is going to sell them to the gum
merchant at the corner of the square.
I wonder if you will remember the master,
this gray-faced man, with his white turban
and loose cotton dress. It is really Abdel
Hassan, but you did n't expect to meet him
in a city, did you .^ Little Gemila is with
him, too ; that is, she is in the camp out-
side the city gates (for this city has walls
and gates, and is shut up every night), and
to-morrow she will come into the strange
streets with her little brother Alee and one
of the servants, to look about her, as we
were doing just now when we had to start
aside and make way for her father's camel.
I wish we could take little Gemila's hand
and walk with her through the city to-
morrow, and see how wonderful it would
all be to her.
The donkeys with their high-cushioned
What was Gemila Doing? 55
red saddles, and the camels with their noise-
less tread, the red fez caps and turbans, and
the women with long veils, and bright eyes
peering through the little slit that is left
open for them — these would not be strange
to her. But the many beautiful fountains
meeting you at every corner with a refresh-
ing drink, that is something to astonish our
little desert maiden, who generally has
drunk water only from leathern bags or
desert springs. And the houses that crowd
so close on both sides of the street, and
shut out the sky, so that she sees only one
narrow strip of blue instead of her wide des-
ert dome ; and the bazaars, where people are
hustling each other, and shouting and bar-
gaining for shawls and slippers, gold lace,
and silk embroideries — these are things
almost unheard of to the little girl, whose
only garment has been the brown cotton
There is one thing, however, at which
Gemila is never tired of looking ; she could
sit and watch it from morning till night, so
strange, so wonderful, does it seem to her.
56 Each and AIL
This is not her first sight of it, as you will
presently learn. But so strange a sight
does not lose its newness very soon, and
so it is that whenever, in looking down a
street, she sees at the end the broad river
sparkling in the sunshine, she leaves every
other sight for that. She runs to sit beside
it and see the ripples dance along, and the
boats with their pointed blue-and- white sails,
and the sailors rowing and singing to keep
time for their oars.
But you will want to know how it hap-
pened that Gemila left her desert home, and
surprised us by appearing in the streets of
Cairo ; and I must go back two or three
months and tell you all about it. Like
Manenko, she, too, has taken a long and
wonderful journey — at least, it seems won-
derful to you and me, for we are not so
accustomed to travelling as she is.
I think it was about Christmas time, a
hot desert Christmas, remember, that Abdel
Hassan was journeying as usual from one
part of his wide desert home to another,
when he met the caravan from Kordofan,
What was Gemila Doing? 57
with thirty camel loads of gum, on its way
to the great city of Cairo.
I know you must have seen the gum that
oozes out from the peach and plum trees in
such clear, sticky drops ; or, at any rate, if you
don't know that, you have seen gum arabic,
which you can buy at the druggist's. Now,
on the borders of the desert a great many
gum trees grow. The great, clear drops of
gum ooze out of them, as they do from the
peach tree — only there is much more of it,
so that it lies on the ground in little lumps,
under the trees — and children as young as
Gemila and Alee go out to help gather it.
The men pack it in great bags, and load the
camels with it, and set out on a long desert
march of many, many miles, to sell it in the
distant city, and to buy, in return, cloth and
guns, shawls and turbans — just as the Sheik
Hassein did whom Abdel Hassan met one
day long ago, you remember. The Kordo-
fan sheik meets Abdel Hassan gladly, and,
dismounting from his horse, sits beside him
on a mat, and tells him that to see him is
like the blessing of a new moon. And an
58 Each and All.
Arab can hardly express greater pleasure
than that. Then they smoke their long
pipes and drink coffee together, and finally
the sheik explains that he wants more camels
to help carry the gum, and, after much talk,
he agrees to buy two camels of Abdel Hassan
and to pay him with bales of gum. Abdel
Hassan, to whom one part of the w^orld is as
much home as another, decides to journey
himself to Cairo, and sell the gum. And,
since he goes, his whole family will go too.
So the next day they turn their faces
northward, and travel towards Cairo, hav-
ing first asked the Kordofan merchants
how far it is to the next spring.
Their question is answered in a curious
way, for, as these people have not many
words, they make one answer the purpose
of two or three. Let me show you how
they do it. If the spring had been very
near, they would have answered, " Henak,"
but as it is a very long distance away they
make the word very long and say, " Hen-
a-a-a-a-ak," and it is n't so poor a way of
telling distance after all, is it ?
What was Gemila Doing? 59
You know so well what Gemila's jour-
neys generally are that I will not tell you
much about this, excepting the one or two
unusual events of it. The first of these
happened on New Year's Day, and made
it anything but a happy new year. It
was n't a snowstorm ; but it was a sand
storm. The air was hot and hazy; you
could scarcely see the sun, although there
were no clouds to hide him, and presently
all this sultry air began to stir, and whistle,
and rush, and whirl. The light, dry sand
was caught up by it, blown into drifts as
high as a tall man, driven into every fold
of the dress or turban, into every eye and
ear and nostril, with a cutting, stinging
keenness such as we might feel in a fierce,
wild snowstorm in one of our bitter winter
days, only it is hot and tingling, instead of
cold and tingling.
You could perhaps bear this for a few
minutes, but not longer; and this terrible
storm lasted two hours. At first the men
only unfolded the cloth of their turbans so
as to wrap it round the face and ears, and
6o Each and All.
the women and children drew veils over
their heads ; but it was impossible to con-
tinue to travel in such a storm. And when
they saw a great rock not far away, standing
like a tall, black tower or fortress in the
yellow sand, Abdel Hassan was not slow in
leaping from his black horse and planting
his spear, as a sign that they should encamp
in this welcome shelter.
Here they lay, and heard the great whis-
tling wind drive through every cranny and
crevice ; and at last they saw a tall pillar of
sand whirled up by the wind until it seemed
to reach the sky. It moved along in a
stately sort of waltz, round and round, and
still advancing over the burning sands, and
presently it was joined by another and an-
other, and the strange monsters moved on
like a party of giants pleasing themselves
by a wild desert dance. It was well for
little Gemila that the wind carried them
away from, instead of towards, her shelter-
ing rock, for who would have been able to
stand against those terrible, strong, blinding
whirls of sand that the fierce wind had raised ?
What was Gemila Domg? 6i
When at last the sun could be seen again,
and the wind slowly died away, our poor
travellers lay tired and feverish, and as little
able to proceed on their way as if they had
been ill for many days.
But a cool and quiet night refreshed them,
and early in the morning they are up and
away. The only signs that the sand storm
had left behind were great yellow drifts,
soine of them as high as a house, that hid
the track, and confused even Abdel Hassan
himself as to which direction he should take
to reach the bitter wells, their next drinking
place. And so it happened that they rode
doubtfully on during all that morning, and,
after the noonday rest, changed their line
of march a little more towards the north,
and looked eagerly forward for the first
distant glimpse of the tufted top of a palm
And Gemila is the first to clap her hands,
and shout, "Look, look!" while she points
towards the distant horizon ; and there
against the blue sky stand clusters of
feathery palms beside a pretty pond of
62 Each and All.
water, that looks like a bit of the sky itself
dropped down to rest upon the yellow sands.
In the water's edge tall reeds are growing,
and on the farther shore stand black rocks
overhanging their black reflections in the
water. Oh, what a lovely little place ! — the
prettiest spring that the child has ever seen.
But although she claps her hands and
shouts for joy, her father shows no signs
of pleasure, and the camel drivers only shake
their heads and look sober; and neither do
the camels nor horses hasten forward, as
they usually do when they smell the fresh
water from afar.
"See," says old Achmet to the little girl,
"see, it is not a true spring; those are not
real palm trees. Watch them, and you will
know that I tell you the truth."
And Gemila watched; and presently some
of the trees seemed to be standing on their
heads, and the pretty blue pond ran into
the sky, as if there were no line between ;
and Achmet said to her : " If it were real
water it would look darker than the sky, but
this is just the same color." And, as she
What was Gemila Doing? 63
watched, a silvery blur came over it all, and
she rubbed her eyes to see more plainly ; but
when she looked again, it was all gone, and
the desolate waste of yellow sand lay before
them. It was only a beautiful air picture,
which is called a mirage, and wise desert
travellers like Abdel Hassan and Achmet
know it well; but strangers or children are
deceived by it and wander out of their way
to find the refreshing place, which vanishes
into silver mist and leaves them to turn
back disappointed, if indeed they are able
to find the path at all.
You will be glad to know that before sun-
set they did reach a real spring or well of
bitter water, not very good, but better than
nothing; and the camels drank, and the
water bags were filled, and they went on
And now every day they see something
new. There are valleys walled in by black
rocks, and strange caves, where they some-
times camp at night. And at last, one day,
they see before them everywhere groves of
trees — date, lemon, citron, and acacia, and
64 Each mid All.
many others — and as they turn out of the
rocky valley the men raise a great shout,
"El bahr, el bahr ! " (The river, the river!)
The broad, blue, rolling water lies before
them ; and this is Gemila's first sight of the
river. Now it will keep them company for
days and days as they journey along its
banks, and drink of its waters, and hear its
rippling waves at night as they lie in the
caves along its shores, and feel its cool
breeze refreshing them after the terrible
One night they reach a great rock filled
with caves like little rooms of a house, and
all the walls inside are painted with strange
You know we sometimes take a picture
and make up a story about it, telling what
we think this or that person is doing or
where he is going ; but these pictures tell
stories themselves — that is what they were
painted there for — and there is a long, hard
name for them, which means something like
Gemila sees one wall all marked out in
What was Gemila Doing? 65
bright colors — red, blue, green, and yellow
pictures — telling how a family had visitors
to dine, and how the cooks prepared the
dishes, and how the baby sat in his mother's
lap and watched the guests, and how the cats
and dogs lived and played with them just
as they do with you to-day, — only nobody
in all those pictures was ever seen to hurt
or trouble any animal. And when I tell
you that the people who painted them lived
thousands of years ago you will wonder, as I
do, that we can still see them so plainly. I
think they had very good paints, don't you ?
They could n't write as we do now, and they
wanted all the story of their lives — what
they did, and where they went, and what
little children they had to love and take
care of — to be remembered. So they had
it all painted on these hard rocks, that
would not wear out as the leaves of books
do ; and there you and I could see it this
very day, just as Gemila does when she
wakes at early morning and creeps up over
the steep rocks and looks at the pictures,
where the long rays of the rising sun shine
66 Each and All,
far into the caves. There is a red man
with a green head, driving four horses
harnessed to a chariot; and a little blue
girl is feeding the pigeons, just as we
should want to feed the living pigeons that
flutter in such great flocks around every
village, and sleep in the funny tall pigeon
houses made of earthen jars, on the top of
almost every house.
You see, now that they have reached the
river, they find villages all along its banks;
and, for the first time in her life, Gemila
learns what houses are, and thinks that she
likes a tent better. And she sees waving
fields of golden wheat, and the rice growing
in the low meadows, and she tastes the
gingerbread that grows on the dom-palm
tree. She watches the brown ibis and the
stork and vulture busy at their work of
cleaning the village streets, picking up and
eating up all the dirty and disagreeable
things that the careless people have thrown
there, which would otherwise soon decay
and cause sickness.
Our little girl has hardly time to sleep,
What was Gemila Doing? 6'j
there is so much to see. The children, too,
are so different in some ways from herself!
Here is one little girl buttering her hair
with a thick layer of not very sweet butter,
and another has all her braids soaked in
castor oil, and thinks it charming. They
can swim, too, and you may very well know
that Gemila, who has never before seen a
river, or even a lake, has never learned to
swim ; and when she sees the girls and boys
splashing in the water she laughs and
shouts with delight. One little boy sits
astride a round log for a boat, and steers
himself across the stream. How she wishes
she could do the same !
But if I stop to tell you all the wonders
of the way, we shall never reach Cairo. So
let us hurry on, past the great stone pyra-
mids standing so grand in the desert, and
past the wonderful stone image with head
like a person and fore paws like a lion, and
all the rest of its body buried in sand, that
looked so grand and solemn in the moon-
light as they met it suddenly on their march
the last evening before reaching Cairo. The
68 Each and AIL
great solemn face, ten yards in length, look-
ing out over the desert sands, seemed to
have a thousand wonderful stories to tell
of all that it had seen since the men of ages
ago carved it out of the great rock. But it
told none of them to the little awe-struck
Arab girl, nor to the camel drivers, who
hastened to pitch the red-and-black striped
tent and unload their camels for the night,
as if the great face were not watching them
all the while.
Very early in the morning, while sky and
sand are covered with rosy light, Gemila is
wandering among the strange, great rocks,
watching the lizards' little red or blue
tails disappearing through the cracks as
they glide away from her, and the little jer-
boas sitting outside their sand houses. But
already the camels are loaded, and the
tents are struck, and to-day she will see the
gates of Cairo.
I wish I had time to tell you of all that
may be seen in that city, but we are lead-
ing an Arab life now, and do not stop long
in any one place. And so it is that one
What was Gemila Doing? 69
day, when the Khamaseen wind begins to
blow, Abdel Hassan is reminded of the
desert; the old wandering feeling comes
over him, and he says he will stay no longer
But perhaps you do not know why the
Khamaseen wind should remind him of the
desert. It has come from the desert, and
it fills all the air with a fine yellow dust that
is borrowed from the yellow sand on the
way. They call it Khamaseen, because, in
the language of that country, Khamaseen
means fifty, and for fifty days this hot wind
blows most of the time. It has reminded
Abdel Hassan of his old home, and he must
begin to think of his return.
But he has sold his camels, as well as his
gum ; and what is an Arab without camels }
True, he has money enough to buy more
than he has ever owned before, but he will
buy them better from the desert tribes than
here in Cairo ; and so it happens that a new
way of life offers itself for him and his
family. They will go in a Nile boat as far
as Korosko, and there, where the river
70 Each and All.
makes a great curve like the letter C, and
half encircles a desert, they will leave it and
begin again their life among the rocks
This is a delightful journey to Gemila
and Alee ; they are learning to love the
river, and to know what a mighty friend
it is to all the country. We who live by
a river can tell how useful it is in many
ways to our own country ; but this great
river Nile is more useful to its country than
any of our rivers are to us. Before Gemila
reaches her desert home she will see a very
remarkable change in it. Now its waters
roll quietly on in a narrow channel, but in
a few weeks they will rise and rise, higher
and higher every day, and presently all the
country on both sides will be flooded like
a great lake. " Ah ! " you say, " what will
become of all the poor people and the
houses ? "
Do not be anxious about them, for they
have seen the river behave in this way every
year since they were born, and they have
built all their houses on high land for safety ;
What was Gemila Doing? 71
and they watch the rising of the water with
deHght, for it comes as a messenger of good
will to tell them of fruitful fields and fine
harvests, since it waters for them the fields
on which no rain ever falls. Only think of
that ; Gemila has never seen rain ! I have
heard it said that there is a great shower in
the desert, perhaps once in ten or twenty
years, but our little girl is only nine years
old, and it has n't come in her time. Think
how dry and desolate the whole country
would be if it were not that this good friend,
the river, gathers all the rains and melted
snows from the mountain countries far away,
even as far as those hills towards which
Manenko travelled, and pours them down
through hundreds of miles to bless and
refresh this thirsty land.
In our country we have four seasons.
When the snow is all gone, and the birds
begin to come, and the farmers prepare to
plant their seeds, we call it spring ; summer
brings the flowers and fruits, and autumn
is harvest time ; then comes winter, which
Dossie and Edith like best of all. But in
72 Each and AIL
this land where Gemila is travelling, the
river alone decides what the seasons shall be.
When the water begins to rise it is like
a promise of spring to the farmer; and so
regularly does it rise and fall that he knows
well that, when November comes, he must
have his seed ready for planting, for the
river will have fallen, and the rich, damp
slime will be left by its waters upon the
fields ; so we may call November his spring-
time. And when the wheat and rice are
well grown in the damp fields, and need
only a greater heat to ripen them, then
comes the Khamaseen wind and hastens
the harvest ; and that must bring autumn.
And, after autumn, do you think they ex-
pect snow } Oh, no, indeed ! They have
never seen snow, and only once in a while
a little ice. But a dry, hot time comes,
when nothing will grow, and the river has
shrunk away again into its old narrow bed ;
and you may call the season by what name
you like, only the people are very glad when
it ends, and the friendly river begins to rise
again ; and that is about the last of June.
What was Gemila Doing? 73
But all this while the river has been
floating our travellers down to Korosko ;
and here Abdel Hassan buys his camels,
and amono: them one beautiful milk-white
dromedary, a camel with one hump on its
back instead of two. This gentle creature
trots and runs with so easy and steady
a motion, that its rider might drink a cup
of milk while going at a full trot, and
not spill a single drop. Would n't you like
to have that dromedary to ride on, little
Georgie ? Do you think Gemila will ride
it ? Oh, no ! it is to have quite a different
rider. In this little town by the river an
English gentleman and his wife are waiting
for guides and camels to cross the desert
to Abou Hammed, and when this gentle-
man sees the gentle white dromedary, he
thinks that nothing could be more easy
and comfortable for his wife's riding on
this hard journey, so he hires both Abdel
Hassan and his camels to cross the desert
Six months asfo little Gemila would have
been lost in wonder at seeing the white
74 Each and All.
people ; but in Cairo she saw, every day,
people from Europe and from America, and
she recognizes them at once and stretches
out her little brown hand for backsheesh
(a present), feeling pretty sure that they will
And now there are great preparations
for this desert journey. The women have
made crisp abreys, baked in the sun, and
plenty of kisras of durra flour. New water
bags are made of gazelle skins, and a whole
sheep is roasted. Just before they are ready
to start, the women of the village hurry into
camp with baskets of milk to sell. The heat
will soon turn it sour, but in that country
sour milk is thought an excellent drink.
This is a part of the desert quite new to
Gemila, but her father travelled there many
years ago and knows it well. The sand is
gray instead of yellow, and there are all
sorts of odd round stones strewn every-
where, as if some giants had been playing
a game of ball, and had neglected to put
away their playthings. If we should break
open one of these black balls, we should
What was Gemila Doing? 75
find it hollow and filled with bright red
sand, though how the sand came there or
the pebbles either, I am at a loss to tell you.
Presently one of the camels runs his
head into a kittar bush for a mouthful of
its spiny leaves. And since you know Ma-
nenko's wait-a-bit thorn, I will also intro-
duce you to this kittar bush, which is its
own cousin, only twice as strong, and it
clutches with such a hold that it ought
to have a name meaning, "stop entirely."
Many is the long tear in dress or turban
that the kittar bushes give them before
they reach the end of their journey.
Gemila also makes the acquaintance of
some monkeys that are found one day,
poor, thirsty creatures, digging wells for
themselves in the sand. Only think how
wise they are. And she sees the tall milk-
weed plants, with their pretty, silvery fish
for seeds ; but old Achmet tells her not to
touch them, for they are very poisonous,
and only the goats can eat them with safety.
They are coming now to the land of wild
asses and of guinea hens. Who was it that
76 Each and All.
had guinea hens for dinner whenever there
was nothing else to be had ? Do you think
we are near Manenko's country ? And after
three weary weeks they come, one beautiful
evening, again in sight of the river and the
villages ; and an old sheik hastens out to
meet them and says, " Salaam aleikum "
(Peace be with you) and welcomes them to
I said they had reached the land of guinea
hens; it also begins to be the land of round
houses with pointed roofs, but the houses
are of stone, and the roofs only of reeds and
straw. A change, too, has come in the
weather — a very remarkable change for our
desert people. There is going to be a rainy
season ! When the first shower comes our
foolish little Gemila stands still in wonder,
gets wet through, and the next day lies on
her little mat, and begins to feel very ill —
so ill that her mother goes to the fakir for
Now we all know that medicine is dis-
agreeable enough to take, but any one of
you will take it for the sake of getting
What zvas Gemila Doing! *jj
well ; and you will be interested to know
what Gemila's medicine is, and how she
The old fakir listens to her mother's
account of the child's illness, and then
he takes down a little board which hangs
beside his door, plasters it over with
lime, and writes upon it some words from
the Koran, which is the Arab's Bible.
When all is finished, he washes it off,
plaster, ink, and all, into a gourd cup ; and
that is the medicine. Very disagreeable
indeed, I think; and, what is worse, I am
afraid it won't make her well. I wish she
had one of those bitter white powders that
Bazungu gave to Manenko. Perhaps the
English lady, who always has been kind
to the little girl, will be able to help her.
When the mother has waited three days
for the fakir's medicine to cure her sick
little daughter, and each day she has grown
worse instead of better, she goes to the tent
outside the village, where the English people
are living, and tells the " sity," as she calls
her; that poor little Gemila will die if she
yS Each and All.
cannot have some medicine to make her
better. And, only think, the " sity " has
some of those same bitter powders. She
comes herself to give one to the child, and
leaves another to be taken next day ; and,
although it is a very long time before Ge-
mila can run and play as usual, she begins
slowly to recover. In a week or two
she is able to sit by the river and watch
the boys floating on their rafts of ambatch
wood, which is a very safe plaything in the
water, for it is lighter than cork. And in
the early morning she creeps out to see
the beautiful lotus flowers flash open to the
One day a white man's caravan comes into
the village ; there are camels and donkeys,
and men from the far south, the mountain
country where the great river gathers its
waters. The white man's face is as brown
as an Arab's, he has travelled so long in the
hot sunshine. His men have woolly hair,
strangely plaited and matted together, and
dressed in such a way as to look like high
helmets of thick felt. They are smeared
What was Gemila Doing? 79
with grease and adorned with cowrie shells
and bracelets of ivory ; and among them is
Zungo, the brother of Manenko. You re-
member a white man came and took him
on a journey ; and here we find him beside
the river Nile, and our little Gemila is look-
ing up at him, and wondering if he has a
little sister at home with woolly hair like
his own. Of course she never knew any-
thing about Manenko ; but it happens that
at this place Zungo's master is to leave him,
or rather send him back to his home, and
the English gentleman, who will go south-
ward next month, is very glad to engage
him as a servant and interpreter. And now
he, for the first time in his life, is paid for
his services with money.
You remember what the Bazungu paid
him for cutting the wood and making the
fires, and afterwards he had a yard of cloth
a day when he travelled as interpreter.
Now the English gentleman shows him a
large round silver piece of money. A
picture of a lady's head is on one side,
and some figures on the other. What it
So Each and All.
is worth he does n't know at all, but you
and I would call it a dollar. When Zungo
wants a name for it he calls it, as the
other men do, " the father of buttons " ;
and when the new master promises to pay
him with just such silver pieces, he soon
learns that here at Abou Hammed they will
buy food and clothes, and anything else that
he wants, provided only that he has enough
of them. He stays a month in the village,
for it is not best to start until the heaviest
rains are over, and he becomes good friends
with Gemila and Alee, as well as with their
When the day arrives for the English
gentleman's caravan to depart for the south,
little Gemila, who is now quite well, and
will start with her father to-morrow for her
old desert home, brings a big bead, such as
the Arabs call a pigeon's ^g<g, and sends it
as a present to Manenko, the little sister
that she has never seen.
NEW WORK FOR PEN-SE AND LIN.
Do you remember that Pen-se did not
always live in the boat on the river? It
was in the tea country among the hills
that she was born, and now she is going
back again to a place very near her old
home, for a letter has come from her uncle
in the Hoo-chow country, asking her father
to come up and help him upon his silk farm.
And very soon the boat and the ducks are
sold to his neighbor Ah-foo, and Kang-hy
and his wife, with their three children, are
on their way to the Hoo-chow country.
Even the little girl can work on the silk
farm; and you will realize that when you
see what a silk farm is.
Here are rows and rows of low, bushy
mulberry trees; and every morning, while
the leaves are fresh with dew, the two little
girls and their mother go out with their
baskets to gather them. We will follow,
82 Each and All.
and see what they do next. We carry our
baskets to a bamboo house with curtained
windows, standing cool and quiet at the
farther side of the field. Kang-hy is there
before us, and when he sees our fresh leaves
he opens the door a little way and says,
" Go in carefully ; don't disturb them " ; and
then he quickly shuts the door, for fear of
letting in too much light.
Do you think there is a baby asleep in
there, that we must be so quiet? Look
about you ; there is no baby to be seen.
But little trays, something like sieves, are
everywhere, and Pen-se is going from one
to another and supplying each with her
fresh mulberry leaves. And presently all
around us rises a curious little sound of
thousands of little mouths at work munch-
ing and munching. Peep into this nearest
tray, and look at the hungry silkworms
having their breakfast. Were there ever
busier or greedier eaters t But when one
has a great deal of work to do one must
eat to get strength for doing it; and these
little worms have each three hundred yards
New Work for Pen-se and Lin. ^'i^
of silk to spin before the month is out. So
they eat and grow, and grow and eat, as
busily as possible ; and when they get too
big for their skins they just take them off,
and a new^ soft, elastic one comes in place
of the old, and gives them a fine chance
of growing and growing more and more.
I am sure you have all seen the pretty
chrysalids that caterpillars make in the
autumn. My children know them well
enough, for we had a w^hole box full last year,
and they peopled a butterfly house in the
spring. Sometimes the chrysalids are dry
and horny, but once in a while you see a
silky one. That is the kind this worm will
make — a silky chrysalis of a pale gold
color; and then Pen-se will help to gather
them up, and her mother will wind off the
silk in beautiful, soft, flossy skeins, and take
it to market to sell.
Pen-se likes this work even better than
rowing the tanka boat on the river. She
grows fond of the little worms. She is
careful to clean out their trays neatly
every morning, and give them the best and
84 Each and All.
freshest leaves, and she longs to be old
enough to wind off the silk herself. She
is tempted to try it, but her mother says:
"No, not yet." And I am glad to say that
in China little girls do not tease or fret.
So Pen-se waits, and in a few days a
delightful opportunity comes to her. It is
this: out in the woods, half a mile from
the house, she finds some wild silkworms
spinning their webs on a mulberry tree, and
she marks the place and promises herself
that in a few days, when the chrysalids
are ready, she will come back and take
them. So one day, a week later, she runs
to her mother with her little bamboo basket
full of wild cocoons, and tells her story of
finding them in the woods, and timidly asks,
since they are her own, whether she may try
to wind them. Her mother is willing; and
oh, what a proud, happy little girl she is
when she has a skein of silk of her own
winding! Not so fine and even as her
mother's, to be sure — but wild silk is
never the best — and yet it is strong and
useful for some coarser weaving ; and when
New Work for Pen-se and Lin, 85
she has a pound, she may carry it to market
and sell it.
Do you wish you lived in a country where
you could find wild silk in the woods ?
Pen-se is only a little girl, but she has
a great deal of hard work to do, especially
now that her father cannot have much help
from her brother Lin ; for Lin is going to
school. Can't Pen-se go to school, too '^.
No, I am sorry to say that in her country
nobody thinks it best for little girls to learn
even reading and writing ; and, when you
think of it, don't you remember that neither
Agoonack, Manenko, nor Gemila ever went
to school ? But Lin is a boy, and boys
must all learn at least reading and writing,
if nothing more.
Do you remember the first day you ever
went to school ? If you do, you will like to
hear about Lin's first schoolday.
His father looked in the almanac to see
what would be a lucky day for a little boy
to begin going to school, and when he found
in the long list of lucky days, " June 8 is a
good day for beginning school," he decided
86 Each and AIL
upon that, and early in the morning he
provided the child with all that he will need
Do you think he will have a slate and
pencil and a book ?
Oh, no ! He carries two little candles,
some perfumed sticks, and some little papers
of make-believe money — that is all. Walk-
ing beside his father, he goes up to the vil-
lage where the schoolhouse is, and, finding
the teacher at the door, Kang-hy makes a
low bow and presents his son. He does
not tell the teacher Lin's name, for to-day
the boy will have a new name given him,
which will be called his book name, and we
shall have to leave off calling him Lin, and
begin to call him Li-hoo instead. Is n't that
Now, what will he do with the things
he has brought? Do you think they are
a present for the teacher? No, for the
teacher leads the little boy to a table,
where he places the candles and lights
them, and then shows the child how to
burn his perfumed sticks and his mock
New Work for Pen-se and Lin. '^']
money ; and all that is done in honor of a
great and wise teacher who taught in that
country thousands of years ago. As the
little boy is to study from the books of that
teacher, it is thought right to perform this
service of respect to his memory. And if to
you and me it seems like nonsense, we will
not laugh at it, but only say : " If he thinks
it will please the wise and good teacher, let
him do it."
And now the real studying is to begin.
Do you know how many letters there are
in the alphabet ?
" There are twenty-six," says little Georgie.
And do you want to know how many
letters there are for this little Chinese
boy to learn in his alphabet? Poor child!
I pity him, for there are thirty thousand.
But long before he has learned them all
he will be able to read common words and
stories, for most of the letters are really
whole words, not spelled out as ours are,
but a sort of picture writing. And soon he
learns that this letter (o) means the sun ;
and that if it is made just above a straight
8S Each and AIL
line, so (o), it means the early morning,
for the sun is just above the horizon. This
(/Av\) is a mountain. And some of the others
are just as simple and easy to learn, but
there are many almost too difficult to think
After his reading and writing are finished
for the day, he learns to repeat this sentence
from the book of the wise teacher who lived
so long ago :
" The portrait of a father is a book which
teaches a son his duties."
I think I understand that, for I know
some little children who love to play in the
room where the portrait of their grandfather
hangs, and his pleasant face smiles down
upon them, helping them to be good and
patient in their little trials, and helpful to
each other. Perhaps that is what Li-hoo
feels when he has learned his sentence and
stands back to the schoolmaster (for that
position is considered only proper and
polite) and repeats it slowly and carefully,
word for word.
Now school is over for the day, and Li-
New Work for Pen-se and Lin. 89
hoo turns Into Lin again, and runs home
to tell his wondering little sister what new
things he has learned.
I cannot say whether Pen-se wishes that
she, too, could go to school. If she does,
she says nothing about it, for she has never
heard of such a thing as girls going to
school, and does n't suppose it possible.
But you and I would welcome her to our
school, if she came here, would n't we }
One day at the end of the summer her
brother comes home very happy ; he has,
for the first time, read a story for himself,
and at night he repeats it to Pen-se. I will
repeat it for you, that you may see what
kind of stories the Chinese children read.
Here it is :
" There was a boy whose father was so
poor that he could not afford to send him
to school, but was obliged to make him
work all day in the fields to help maintain
the family. The lad was so anxious to learn
that he wished to give up a part of the
night to study, but his mother had not the
means of supplying him with a lamp for that
90 Each and All.
purpose. So he brought home every even-
ing a glowworm, which, being wrapped in
a thin piece of gauze and applied to the
lines of a book, gave sufficient light to
enable him to read ; and thus he acquired
so much knowledge that in course of timic
he became a minister of state, and sup-
ported his parents with ease and comfort
in their old age." Lin is so fond of going
to school that he almost believes he shall
be like the boy in this story, and he hopes,
at any rate, to take good care of his father
and mother in their old age. That is what
every child in China means to do, and I
hope every child in our own country, too.
But we will leave Lin hard at work on
his studies, and see what the rest of the
family are doing.
Do you know about the wax makers ?
I think I can hear Edith answer : " Oh,
yes, the bees ! " But I must say : " Oh, no ;
I mean the tiny brown wax insects that
cover themselves, and the tree on which
they feed, with fine white wax."
While the women and children have been
New Work for Pen-se and Lin, 91
busy with silkworms, Kang-hy has gone every
day to help another man collect the wax
from the wax trees, and now the time has
come for the little wax insects to lay their
very tiny eggs. These are carefully gath-
ered and packed in leaves, and must be car-
ried to the hatching trees, which are miles
and miles away in quite another part of the
country. For some curious reason, these
little creatures thrive best during their
babyhood in one country, and when their
wax-working days begin, they want to be
carried to another. So the men, having
collected a great many packages of eggs,
start on a two weeks' journey to the hatch-
ing trees. If they should travel in the
daytime, the heat of the sun would hatch
the eggs before their time. On that
account the men have chosen to make the
journey at a time when the moon is large,
and they can see to travel in the night;
and for a whole fortnight they sleep by
day and walk by night. And pleasant
walks they are, too, through the beautiful
green woods, where the wild azaleas and
92 Each and All.
camellias lift their fair white faces in the
moonlight, and the great lantern flies flash
among the dark foliage.
Kang-hy is a very industrious man, and
just now he is earning all the money he
possibly can for tw^o reasons — very impor-
tant reasons, both of them, as you will
The first is, that a little new baby boy
has been born, and the father who has four
children must work harder and earn more
than the father who has only three.
Now I must tell you about this little baby
and how he was welcomed — welcomed with
the greatest rejoicings, because he was a
boy, and in China they are more glad to
have boys than girls.
When he is a few days old the father
invites all his friends to a feast, and, taking
the baby in his arms, holds him up before
them all and gives him a name. At first
he thought of calling this child Number
Four, for a number is considered as good
as a name ; but finally he decides upon
Chang-fou, and this becomes the baby's pet
New Work for Pcn-se and Lin. 93
name, or baby name, which will last him
until he has his school name, just as Lin had
his a few months ago. Then the mother
ties his wrists together with a little red
string; that is thought to be the way to
make him good and obedient. And when
he grows big enough to understand, if ever
he is naughty somebody will say to him :
" Why, why ! did your mother forget to bind
your wrists } " Is n't that a funny thing
And now you can imagine how our little
Pen-se will spend all her spare minutes in
playing with the baby, and carrying him out
to see the beautiful gold and silver pheas-
ants, and the gay ricebirds, and the half-
dozen pretty little puppies that she feeds
every day with rice, and watches and tends
Do you know what she will do with the
puppies when they are very plump and fat }
Don't you remember that there were fat
puppies for sale in the market of the great
city by the river where Pen-se used to live ?
She is really fattening them to sell, for she
94 Each and All.
too, little as she is, must earn money and
help her father.
Now I must tell you the second reason
why Kang-hy wants to earn all he can. He
has heard of a wonderful country far away
over the sea — a country where the hills
and the rivers are full of gold, and where
white men and women, such as he sees in
the American ships at Canton, have their
homes. I am afraid that some of the things
he has heard are not wholly true, but at
least it is quite certain that a man or boy
can earn ten times as much money in that
distant California as he can in the rice fields
or the silk farms of China.
Of course Kang-hy cannot go himself and
leave his family behind, but Lin is now
almost fourteen years old, and he might be
sent, if only enough money could be earned
to pay his passage across the wide ocean.
It is for that that his father works, and
Pen-se saves her silk money and her puppy
money, and the mother makes little wax
candles colored red with vermilion, and car-
ries them to market to sell.
New Work for Pen-se and Lin. 95
At last they have all together accumu-
lated about ten dollars, and with this they
go to the mandarin of the village, and ask
him to make arrangements for sending Lin
to America. And the mandarin goes to the
captain of the American ship and shows him
the money and the boy, and says : " Can do?
No can do ? " And the captain answers,
" No can do," and poor Lin turns away dis-
appointed. But he is to go, after all, for
there is in the city a company of merchants
that has engaged a ship to take seven hun-
dred men and boys who want to go to this
new country, and they promise to give Lin
a place if he will pay the ten dollars now
and thirty dollars more after he has earned
it; and it seems very easy to earn thirty
dollars in a country where he will be paid
half a dollar a day. At home he received
only a few cents.
But there is one thing more to be attended
to; his father must write a promise that, if
the boy does not succeed in paying the
thirty dollars, he will do it himself. That is
a hard promise for Kang-hy to give. It has
96 Each and All.
been so difficult to earn ten dollars, how can
he ever earn thirty? But nevertheless he
makes the promise, and says : " I will rather
sell my other children to pay it, than not
keep my promise, now that it is made."
And so little Lin will leave his father,
mother, and sisters, and baby brother, and
go alone to a strange country, where the
people speak a different language, do not
eat with chopsticks, nor wear braided tails
of hair; where the school children do not
recite with their backs to the teacher, and,
more surprising than all, where little girls,
as well as boys, learn to read and write, and
a great deal more besides.
I have said, " where the people speak a
different language, " but already Lin has
learned a little of that strange language in
the odd talk called pigeon English, which
he hears the American sailors talking to the
Chinamen of Canton. They seem to think
that to put ey on the end of a word will
make it more easily understood, and when
they speak to a Chinaman they say findey
instead of find^ and piecey instead of piece.
New Work for Pen-se and Li7t. 97
and catchey instead of catch. They have
other funny words, to which they give mean-
ings of their own ; and since they succeed
in understanding each other, perhaps it
is very well. But what would you think to
hear your papa say, " Catchey some chow-
chow, chop-chop," when he meant only to
ask Bridget to bring him some breakfast
This kind of talk may do in Canton, but
I don't believe Lin will find it very useful
in San Francisco, where he will land in a
I can't tell you about the voyage to San
Francisco; I am afraid it was very uncom-
fortable. The boys were crowded together,
and they felt homesick and seasick. But
such troubles end at last; and so, in time,
comes the sunny morning when they sail
into the beautiful harbor called the Golden
Gate. The little boy looks out at the long,
low hills, with their light-houses, and the
beautiful city lying before him in the sun-
light, and he wonders at seeing no tanka
boats, and no people living in duck boats,
gS Each and All.
as there are in his own country. And then
he has no time to wonder any more, for he
finds himself on land, and is hurried along
with the crowd to the company's houses,
where he will stay until work is found for
" What kind of work } " do you ask }
There are many kinds of work from which
to choose. There is digging at the gold
mines, but that is too hard for a boy so
young, and the work on the new railroad
is also too heavy for him. He can go to
the great laundry to do washing, or, if he
prefers, he can go out to service with some
family. Poor boy ! He is so homesick that
the thought of a family seems almost like
a home, and he timidly suggests that he
should like that best; so he is sent to the
house of Mr. Leighton, who came yesterday
to the laundry to look for a boy. When
Mrs. Leighton looks at him she says : " Oh,
you are too little ! You are not strong
enough to do the work." To which poor
Lin, only half understanding her, answ^ers,
" Me muchey workey, me wash dish " ; and
Nezv Work for Pen-se and Lin, 99
then catching sight of the baby, who lay
crowing and kicking on the floor, he added,
thinking of his own Httle baby brother at
home, " Me playey baby, me jumpey he."
So the mother's heart softens towards
him, and she says that he may come and
try. And pretty soon it happens that little
baby Margie begins to delight in Lin more
than in any other member of the household.
He lets her play with his pigtail, and sings
her little Chinese songs, and talks to her
in the funny language which she thinks a
perpetual joke. And at last one day when
her mamma is trying to have her photo-
graph taken, to send to her far-away aunties,
nobody can keep her still until Lin, all
dressed in his best suit, stands up and
holds her in his arms ; and it is their
picture which you see at the beginning of
Lin was delighted when he saw his own
picture with the "Melican baby, " and Mr.
Leighton gave him one of them to send
home to his father and mother. So he sat
down that evening after his work was done
lOO Each and All.
and wrote the following letter to send to
China by the very next mail. I will turn it
into our own language for you, as the inter-
preter did for the white man in Manenko's
But first you will be interested to see how
Lin is writing his letter. When you write
a letter you begin at the left side of your
paper, but he begins at the right and writes
in columns, as you do sometim.es in your
writing books. It would puzzle you and
me, but his father will know how to read
it, and that is the most important thing,
My DEAR AND HONORED FATHER AND MOTHER,
May the light shine upon you.
You will see a picture of your son Lin, holding in
his arms a Melican baby. She is a pretty baby, like
little Chang-fou ; but in the Melican country they do
not bind the babies' wrists, so she is sometimes dis-
I work every day, wash the dishes, sweep, take care
of the baby, and I earn much money. Already I pay
ten dollars to the company man. I will be very
industrious. You shall not have to pay.
Last month we celebrated the New Year. Three
New Work for Pen-se and Lm, loi
thousand Chinamen walked in a procession to the
Joss-house ; and we had feasts, and fireworks, and
New- Year's cards. I send my cards to you. (Here
were enclosed two slips of red paper printed with
strange black Chinese letters, which neither you nor I
We had a New- Year's week, not a month as at home.
And I went for two days, but no more ; for I must do
We did not have the new almanacs, as we do at
home ; but I thought about it, and wondered if the Great
Emperor had received his, with its covers of yellow
satin in its beautiful golden case, and whether you
had bought yours, and were looking into it to see what
would be the lucky day for writing me a letter.
My master he asked me one day if I would have
my hair cut ; but I told him no, not for twenty dollars.
Yet I should very much like the twenty dollars.
When I have paid the company, I shall have money
to send to you.
When this letter reaches you, I think it must be
very near little Chang-fou's birthday.
I wish I could see you all. When I have earned
plenty of Melican money, I shall come home to you
again, and I will always be your dutiful and obedient
This was Lin's letter; and now we will
see how it was received in his home.
I02 Each and AIL
It was a pleasant spring day in the Hoo-
chow country, and the first mulberry leaves
were coming out. Pen-se and her mother
were at work, as we have seen them before,
but the little girl was complaining because
her winter dress made her so warm.
" Tut, tut ! " said her mother, " don't com-
plain ; you can't change it, you know, until
the emperor's decree comes for putting on
And the little girl, knowing that to be
true, tries to think of something else and
forget her discomfort. And there is a pleas-
ant subject to think about ; for to-morrow
will be little Chang-fou's birthday, and he
will be one year old. Already his new cap
and first shoes have come as a present from
his grandmother, and preparations are mak-
ing for a simple feast among the friends of
It was very kind for the grandmother to
send the cap and shoes, was n't it } But I
must tell you something quite curious about
this present. It wasn't only because she
wanted to, that she sent the cap and shoes.
New Work for Pe7t-se and Liri. 103
but because in China it is thought quite nec-
essary that a grandmother should always give
just this present, and no other, on the little
grandson's first birthday. Now if she had
wanted to bring him a rattle and a jumping-
jack instead of a cap and shoes, she could n't
have done it ; everybody would have cried
out that it was n't the proper thing ; and if
she ventured to ask, " Why ? " they would all
say: "It must be so, because it always has
been so." You and I don't think that is a
very good reason, do we ? But it is the only
answer we shall get in China to many and
many of our questions. If you ask, " Why
does the great general wear an embroidered
tiger on his beautiful silk dress? why does the
writer of books wear one of his finger nails
two inches long ? and why do the princes
have their almanacs covered with red satin
and silver, while the emperor's are bound in
yellow satin and gold } " to each and every
question the Chinese will answer: " It always
was so, and therefore it will always be so."
But we must return to the silk farm and
the baby's birthday.
I04 Each and All.
All the friends have assembled, and little
Chang-fou is brought in, dressed in new
clothes. His mother carries him, and Pen-
se walks behind, carrying a round sieve in
which lie various things. There are writing
materials — the four precious materials,
Kang-hy calls them — there are little
money scales, books, fruits, pieces of gold
and silver, a skein of silk, and some little
twigs from a tea plant.
Don't you wonder what is to be done with
them all ? See, the sieve is placed on the
table, and the laughing baby is seated in
it among all the things of which I have just
told you. Everybody watches the little fel-
low to see what he will do, for they think
that what business he is to engage in when
he grows up, is to be decided now by which-
ever of all these things he first grasps in his
little fat hand.
His father would best like to have him a
wise man and a writer, but the yellow gloss
of the silk attracts him first, and, stretching
out his hands for it, he lisps, in his own
funny language, "Pretty, pretty," and every-
New Work for Pen-se and Lhi. 105
body declares that he will be a silk grower,
like his uncle.
And now the bowls of rice are brought in,
and the guests sit around the table with their
chopsticks, and sip their little cups of per-
fumed rice wine ; and in the midst of all the
festivity the postman enters with Lin's letter.
Kang-hy is a proud and happy man when
he reads it, and the picture of Lin with the
" Melican baby " in his arms is passed from
hand to hand and admired by every one ;
and one neighbor says to another: " It will
be well that we send our sons to this great
and rich country over the seas."
Then they all leave the table and go out
with firecrackers, to finish the entertainment
with such a display as we only expect on
Fourth of July.
Pen-se does n't care much for the firecrack-
ers, for she has heard and seen them almost
every day since she was born ; but she has
stolen away into a corner and laid her cheek
against the pretty face of the "Melican baby."
She thinks she should love that little stranger.
Perhaps she is a little sister, too.
CAN THE LITTLE BROWN BABY DO
She is hardly more than a baby. Do you
remember her little swinging bed in the
tree, and her birds and flowers and butter-
What can such a baby do ? I am sure
she can't work.
Yes, she is a little creature, but she shall
have a little chapter, too, of her own.
Sometimes when we are doino^ our little
work quietly, and not supposing that any-
body but those who are nearest us knows
or cares or is helped by it, we find that
really we have been doing a service for
unknown friends far away whom we have
never even seen ; and this is what our
brown baby is going to do.
She plays in the forest just as she used
to ; she gathers flowers and chases butter-
The Little Brown Baby. 107
flies. But one morning, after she has been
to the cow tree with her cocoanut bowl to
get some milk for breakfast, and has had
her bath in the stream, and her roll on the
grass, she sees her mother walking slowly
through the wood, looking carefully on this
side and on that, to find the kina trees, with
their yellow bark; and even this little girl,
who is now but five years old, shows us that
she can work as well as play, and begins to
pull off the curled bark and bring the bits
to her mother to see if they are of the right
kind. And at last, down in the hot valley
she finds a beautiful evergreen tree, with
fragrant white blossoms something like the
white lilac, and she runs to call her mother
to see the pretty sight. But no sooner does
the mother look at the beautiful tree than
she hurries back to call the men, who come
with their axes to cut it down, for it is a true
kina tree and will yield many drums of
And while the men are carefully stripping
the great trunk and large boughs, the little
girl works busily at the slender branches,
io8 Each and All.
and soon has her basket full of curly strips
ready for drying.
" But," you ask, " what is all this for, and
how is it to be a help to anybody ? "
Do you remember the time when Ma-
nenko had a fever, and the Bazungu gave
her a white powder ? and when Gemila, too,
was ill, and the English lady brought her also
the same bitter powder? Where do you
suppose they got that medicine ?
Probably they bought it at a druggist's in
But where did the druggist get it }
Ah, we never thought of that ! Where
did he, indeed }
Why, that bitter powder is made from
this very bark that the brown baby is so
carefully pulling from the boughs, and her
country is the only country in the world
where it grows. Now, only think what a
kind service she has done for her two
sisters, Gemila and Manenko, whom she
has never seen nor heard of.
She doesn't travel and take long journeys,
as some of the other children do. She can
The Little Brozun Baby. 109
only do her little work in her own home,
and then send it away in ships far over the
seas to distant countries. But when her
drum of kina bark is taken to Arica for
shipment there is another great package of
something prettier than bark that goes with
it, and you will see, by and by, to which of
the seven sisters this will come.
There is a pretty little squirrel-like animal
with the softest of gray fur. If the brown
baby had any pets or any place in which to
keep them I am sure she would want one of
these little chinchillas, but no doubt it is
happier in its free forest home than it would
be in any little house, however fine, with
which you or I could provide it. And as
for the brown baby, who has no house for
herself, she, of course has none for anything
else. And yet the gentle creature living in
its burrow and sitting at its little door-
way in the sun is a great pleasure and
entertainment to the child, whenever she
climbs up the hillside far enough to come
to chinchilla town, for it is almost as much
of a little town as are the prairie dog towns
no Each and All.
of which you have sometimes heard. In fact,
the prairie dog is a cousin of this same little
Our baby watches them with their tails
curled up over their backs like squirrels,
and sees them scamper into their under-
ground houses when she comes too near ;
and she is sorry, and so am I, when her
father catches as many of them as he can,
that he may pack their pretty skins in great
bundles, and send them away with the
drums of bark to be sold.
Perhaps some of you will have chinchilla
muffs and caps made from these same little
skins, so they will be a present from brown-
Do you want to know how all these pack-
ages of bark and fur are carried down to the
ships at the seashore }
They have neither horses nor carts, as in
our country, for the mountain roads are too
steep for such travel, but the packages are
loaded on the backs of the gentle llamas, who
can step lightly and safely down the steepest
paths ; and just as our men are ready to start
The Little Brown Baby, 1 1 1
with their loaded animals the mountain train
from the silver mines comes into sight, wind-
ing slowly down the narrow path along the
Did you think I meant a train of cars ? Oh,
no ! it was a train of llamas, with their small,
graceful, erect heads, and their slender legs.
How gallantly their leader moves in front,
with his gayly embroidered halter, and pretty
little streamer floating from his head ! And
the others all follow in single file down the
slope, carrying their burdens so carefully
that they scarcely seem to need the care of
the drivers, who clamber along behind them.
But, when one poor tired little animal sud-
denly lies down by the roadside, see how
quickly his Indian master shows both love
and care for him ! He kneels beside him,
pets and caresses him, and comforts him
with tender words, just as Gemila and Alee
pet their father's black horse ; and at last the
llama struggles again to his feet and follows
his companions, who are almost out of sight.
They are all loaded with silver from the
mountain mines ; and when they have left
112 Each and All,
it at the seaport they will carry back salt
for the mountain people.
The little fur and bark train joins the
silver train, and all go together down to the
ships that are waiting for their loads. And
the little brown baby watches them out of
sight, and then goes back to her play and
her work, and does not dream that she has
sent anything to Manenko or to Gemila, or
to any other of those far-away, unknown
CHRISTMAS TIME AGAIN FOR LOUISE.
You all remember the beautiful Christmas
time in the happy home by the river Rhine,
and the long, hard journey afterwards to the
new home in the Western forest.
Do you want to go with me now, and take
a peep at Louise and Fritz, and Gretchen
and little Hans?
We left them in a log house, did n't we ?
But see ; they have now built a larger and
more comfortable one ; not like the beautiful
old home by the Rhine, but simple almost as
the log one, only it has more rooms, better
fireplaces, and more convenient furniture.
Louise and Gretchen have a little room
to themselves, and last summer a morning-
glory vine climbed all about their window,
and opened its lovely blossoms to the morn-
ing sun. Up in that room to-day Louise
sits down by the sunny window to think for
114 Each and AIL
a minute. She has just made her bed and
put her room in order, and in five minutes
more she ought to be down stairs sweeping
the Httle sitting room. Besides, there is
another reason for not stopping long, for this
November day, even if the sun does shine, it
is not warm enough in that fireless room for
any one to sit still long.
What do you suppose she is thinking
about } What do you begin to think about
when November is almost gone,and December
is coming .f^ "Christmas, Christmas!" I hear
all the little voices answering. Yes, that is
what Louise is thinking about. She is not
wondering what she will have in her stocking,
nor what she shall buy for papa and mamma,
or all the brothers and sisters ; but the ques-
tion has popped itself into her head, " Could
I, could I, make a little Christmas tree, such
as we used to have at home by the beautiful
river Rhine — a Christmas tree to surprise
them all } " And she is sitting down for just
a minute to think how it would be possible
to do this without telling any one of the
Christmas Time for Louise. 115
But to this difficult question no answer
presents itself, and she must n't linger when
there is so much work to be done. So with
the sense of a delightful secret in her mind,
she runs down to sweep the sitting room,
while Gretchen amuses little Hans in one
corner of the kitchen, and her good mother
puts the bread into the pans and sees that
the oven is ready for baking.
Sometimes I believe our best thoughts
come when we are busiest ; and I don't
wonder that Louise gave a little jump for
joy in the midst of her work, when it suddenly
occurred to her that Jeannette, the little
neighbor who had come last year to live at the
nearest farm, would help her, and that Jean-
nette's tall brother Joseph would certainly
bring them a tree from the woods.
Now, I know that she wants to put on her
hat, and run over to Jeannette's house to ask
her about it at once, but she can't do that, or
who will mend the stockings, and set the
dinner table, and wash the dishes, and sweep
the kitchen floor when all is done ? So she
works on, singing softly to herself, although
1 1 6 Each and A II.
she hardly knows what she is singing until
her mother says : " What makes you so happy,
dear ? and why do you sing the Christmas
hymn ? "
Louise laughs, and answers : " Why, was
I singing the Christmas hymn ? I did n't
It is three o'clock, and at last the day's
work is finished ; and, " Mother, may I take
my sewing and go to Jeannette's ? " asks
Louise. And there is such a tone of satis-
faction in the child's words that her mother
looks up at her, glad to see her so happy, and
says : " Certainly."
Jeannette lives in a log house hardly better
than the one in which we left Louise when
you knew her long ago. But Joseph has
made some comfortable benches, and one
with a very high back that stands always
beside the fireplace and is called the settle.
Into the corner of this settle cuddle the two
little girls, and it is n't many minutes before
Jeannette is as happy as Louise over the
Jeannette has no little brothers and sisters
Christmas Time for Louise. 1 1 7
to surprise on Christmas, but she already
loves Gretchen and Fritz and Hans, and
she enters into the plan most heartily. Of
course Joseph will get the tree ; Joseph will
do anything for his little sister; and, if there
is time, he will also make some little toys of
wood to put upon it. And Jeannette herself
can help in a delightful way, for she can do
something that few little girls of my acquaint-
ance know how to. Shall I tell you what
Her father and brothers began two months
ago, after their grain was harvested, to dig a
cellar for the new house that they mean to
build in the spring. In digging out the
earth, they came to a bed of red and brown
clay, not very hard, and just sticky enough for
moulding into shape. At first the children
played with it in a rough way, making balls,
and sometimes dishes or pans. But one day
Jeannette patted into shape a little cat that
looked so much like her own cat. Sandwich,
that all the children exclaimed at it with
delight, and, lest it should crumble to pieces,
she set it in a warm place in the chimney
IiS Each and All.
corner, and baked it until it was hard. From
that day Jeannette spent all her playtime in
the clay bed ; and sometimes it was the old
shepherd dog who sat for his picture, with a
grave face, and a tail that wanted to wag but
would n't, as if he knew what it was all about
and was keeping still on purpose. Some-
times it was Bossy, or Brindle, or Cowslip,
on their way home from pasture ; and at
last, when her hands grew skillful with
much practice, she tried the shy antelopes
that would not stop half a minute to be
And now Jeannette is planning just what
she will make for each one, and Louise, who
has not such skillful hands but just as loving
a heart, is trying to think what there is that
can be made without costing any money
There are different kinds of presents in
the world, you know. Some of them have
cost a great deal of money, and some have
cost a great deal of love, and thought, and
work. This last is the kind I like best my-
self, and this is the kind that Louise must
Christmas Time for Louise. 119
make. Every day while she is about her
work, her mind is actively thinking, thinking
always, and first one thing suggests itself,
and then another.
" If we had a feather duster, how convenient
it would be to brush off the ashes ! " said her
mother one day, when a fresh log of wood
thrown on to the fire set the ashes flying
even up to the high mantle shelf. And the
little girl could hardly help exclaiming, "O
mother! I will make you one for Christmas,"
for it quickly flashed into her head that the
yard was strewn with turkey feathers, and
why would n't they make a good duster }
It is easier to plan than to execute. But
that same afternoon she picked up all the
longest and best of the feathers — the stouter,
stiffer ones for the middle part of the brush,
and plenty of soft, downy, fluffy ones for the
outside. Jeannette's brother Joseph whittled
out a smooth, pretty handle for her, with a
notch near the end, so that she could tie her
feathers firmly on, and she worked all her
spare time for two days before they were tied
on evenly and well. Even then the ends
I20 Each a7id All.
stuck up clumsily around the handle, and
she could n't think what would make it look
Now somebody is going to help her. Who
can it be ? A little far-away sister whom she
has never seen.
Do you remember how carefully Pen-se
tended the silkworms, and gathered up the
cocoons, and learned to wind off the silk ?
Some of that very silk has been woven into
a pretty blue ribbon — a ribbon that the kind
cousin Mr. Meyer bought in New York, and
sent in a letter, that Louise might have, as
A bunch of blue ribbons,
To tie up her bonnie brown hair.
That night, after Louise is in bed and
almost asleep, she suddenly thinks : " Why,
I will tie a piece of my blue ribbon round
the ends of the feathers, and that will finish
it off beautifully ! " So the next day the
feather duster was finished — the first present
of all, and it was marked " Liebe Mutter"
(Dear Mother) and was hidden away in a
Christmas Time for Louise. 1 2 1
little chest down at Jeannette's house, for it
would spoil everything to have it seen before
But do you think that Louise is the only
one who has remembered that Christmas
If the little girl had not been so busy her-
self, and so anxious to get away into some
obscure corner to do her work unobserved,
she would certainly have noticed that her
mother had a curious way of slipping some-
thing into a drawer which she shut quickly,
when any of the children came in. And she
might also have wondered what Christian was
scribbling at so busily at his corner of the
table in the evening, but, when Christmas
time is near, you should not ask too many
questions, and you should not be surprised
at very mysterious answers.
" Dear Christian," said Louise one day,
when she saw her brother preparing to go
to town with a load of wood, " if mother can
spare me, may I go with you } " Louise had
an idea in her head, and she wanted very
much to get, in the town, some materials
122 Each and All,
wherewith to carry it out ; and the chance
to ride there on the load of wood was delight-
ful. Her mother was willing and glad to
have her go, but hesitated a minute over the
old worn hat and shabby little sack. Then
suddenly she exclaimed: "Why, the dear child
shall wear my eider down pelisse."
Who remembers the bag of eider down
that Agoonack's mother brought to the
Kudlunahs in exchange for needles and
thread 1 Did n't this warm garment come
from Agoonack's land, or from some other
land very much like it t
It was a curious old garment, this pelisse.
Perhaps you have never heard of a pelisse,
but I can remember, when I was a child, an
old lady who had just such a pelisse as this.
It was made of silk and wadded with eider
down, and it was as soft and warm and light
as a bird's coat of feathers. It was a garment
like this that Louise's mother now took out
from one of those great linen-chests that you
remember, and she wrapped it carefully about
her little daughter. It reached almost to
her feet, and the sleeves covered her hands.
Christmas Time for Louise. 123
" But you will be all the warmer for that,"
said the " Hebe Mutter."
Christian has prepared for her a cozy seat
among the logs, and away they go. It is
rather a hard and uneven road, but the snow
has improved it, and the heavy runners of
the wood-sled make smooth, broad tracks
over the as yet unbroken way.
It is a great pleasure to Louise to go to
the town. When one stays at home day
after day, and week after week, the change
of seeing a new place is very delightful, and
Louise has rarely been even to the town,
and only once has she taken a journey since
she first came to America. That was the
journey to New York with her father, when
he went on business, and happened to be
just in time to welcome the cousin home
from his long, strange voyage on the ice
But what can Louise get to-day in the town
without money 1
Perhaps you thought she was going to buy
a little steam engine for Fritz, and a wax doll
for Gretchen. Not at all. You will hardly
124 Each and AIL
imagine what she can do with the little
scraps of black kid and white that she has
timidly begged of the old shoemaker, who
was about to throw them away.
This old shoemaker, with his spectacles
pushed up on his forehead, and his leather
apron tied round his waist, had always been
kind to Louise ever since her father took
her to his shop last summer to be measured
for a pair of shoes. He had looked at the
little worn shoe that she took off, and had
said inquiringly : " That shoe is not made in
this country } " " No," answered the father,
" that shoe came from Germany," and the old
man laid his rough hand caressingly over the
worn leather, and answered : " I, too, came
from the fatherland, but it is now more than
fifty years since I saw the Rhine."
That made them friends at once, and when
the little girl in her long pelisse appeared
to-day at his door, old Hans Stoker pushed
back his spectacles and smiled with pleasure.
And in response to her timid question about
the scraps of leather, he pulled forward an
old box full and said heartily : " Help your-
Christmas Time for Louise. 125
self, my little lady, help yourself; they are all
at your service."
Louise chose long, narrow strips, four of
them white and four black; but while she
was busy over the box, old Hans had opened
the drawer under his bench, and, after measur-
ing and calculating a minute over a pretty
piece of red morocco, he cut off two or three
corners and bits of that. Tossing them
into the box, he said : " They would go in to-
morrow at any rate, so let them go to-day
instead, and take them if you like, my dear."
Louise started with pleasure, and in the
joy of her heart she looked up in the old
wrinkled face and decided to tell him her
" I am going to make a ball for my baby
brother. It is to be a Christmas present,
and I don't want any one to know. It was
going to be only black and white, but the
red stripes will make it just lovely. I thank
you so much for them ! "
The kind old man was as pleased as a
child would be with the little plan, and he
offered to cut the leather for her with his
126 Each and All.
knife, if she could tell him how she wanted
it done. So presently they together con-
trived a paper pattern of a long piece taper-
ing at both ends, like the pieces we sometimes
take off in peeling an orange, and the shoe-
maker promised to cut them while Louise
went with Christian to buy yarn for her
mother. On their return he came out to
the sled with a neat little package all ready
" What have you bought of the shoe-
maker ? " asked Christian as they drove away,
while Louise looked back to nod and smile
at the friendly old face in the doorway of
the little shop.
" I did n't buy anything," she answered,
"but questions are not good at Christmas
time " ; and she looked up into his face and
Christian laughed, too, and then they both
became so lost in Christmas thoughts that
neither of them spoke for a long time. Just
before the lights in their own windows came
in sight Louise said : " Don't tell anybody
that I went to the shoemaker's." " Trust me
Christmas Time for Louise. 127
for that," said Christian, stooping to kiss her
red Hps ; and in another minute they were at
Now, what do you suppose the " Hebe
Mutter " had been doing all day long ?
There had been work enough, you may be
sure, but little Gretchen was anxious to fill
her sister's place as well as she could, and to
save the dear mother as much work as pos-
sible, and Hans had a pile of blocks on the
kitchen floor, and built houses and castles all
the morning. And so it was that the mother
found time to take out of the great chest the
pretty chinchilla muff that she had brought
with her across the seas, because it had been
a Christmas present years ago from her own
But what is she going to do with the
muff.^ She, too, has a Christmas thought,
and her skillful fingers will obey that
thought, and make out of the muff a
pretty chinchilla cap for Louise — just such
a cap as I had when I was a little girl.
Before the children have come home it is
finished and safely hidden away. So you see
128 Each and AIL
a good deal of Christmas work was accom-
plished on that day.
Louise kept her package of kid in her
pocket. It was only when she went up to
bed and found Gretchen fast asleep that she
ventured to open it. There were four beau-
tiful pieces of red, and as many of the black
and the white. It was n't many days before
the pretty ball was finished and stuffed with
lamb's wool. It was a beauty. Can't you
imagine how it looked, and how pleased
little Hans will be with it .^
But if I tell you all beforehand, you won't
enjoy the surprise of the tree half so much.
I must leave a great deal untold, and take a
long leap over to the day before Christmas.
Just one thing I will let you have a peep
at — a box which arrived by express at the
town, ten miles away, and was brought over
by Jeannette's brother Joseph, who left it
down at his house and came up and told
Louise's father privately, for he imagined it
might have something to do with Christmas.
Don't you remember the uncles that they
left in the old home by the Rhine — the
Christmas Time for Louise. 129
uncles who wanted Christian to stay with
them, when his father decided to go away ?
They are good, kind uncles, and they remem-
ber Christmas time. Perhaps you will hear
more of that box when the right time comes.
The day before Christmas — what a busy
day that was !
" May I have the sitting room all to my-
self, all day, dear mother ? " asked Louise,
early in the morning. Her mother looked
surprised. She had guessed that the child
was making presents of some kind, but the
attempt to have a tree had not entered into
her head. She wisely did not say a word
about it, although she now felt quite sure of
her little daughter's plan.
Jeannette came over, there was a myste-
rious consultation, and finally a strange and
bulky bundle covered with a bed quilt was
hurried into the room, and the door was
quickly closed. Louise came out for a small
washtub ; Jeannette carried in a basket of
bricks almost too heavy for her to lift. If
you had listened outside the door, you would
have heard many " Oh's ! " and " Ah's ! " but
130 Each and AIL
at last a little cry of delight, and, " There ! it
stands perfectly firm. Is n't it a beauty ? "
You, dear children, know just as well as I
do, how many mysterious runnings up and
down stairs there were, and slippings in and
out of that door. But you and I can't come
in until the rest of the company do. We
can only look with great curiosity at Louise
as she comes out, about four o'clock, with
flushed cheeks and smiling eyes, locks the
door, and puts the key in her apron pocket
with an air that shows us that her work is
done, and well done, too.
Coming to her mother, who throws her
white apron over her work as soon as the child
approaches, she says : " Mother dear, when
we lived at home by the Rhine, we always
did something at Christmas time to make
people poorer than ourselves happy. There
is little Maggie O'Connell down at the new
house in the clearing, and she has neither
brother nor sister to help her keep a merry
Christmas. May we ask her to come and
keep it with us this evening .f* "
The mother smiled to see that it was the
Christmas Time for Loicise. 131
same Christmas spirit, independent of wealth
or gifts, that shone in her little daughter's
face. A Christmas spirit can come even
without a Santa Claus. But perhaps Santa
Claus has been here, too.
So Louise pinned her shawl over her head
and ran down to the clearing for Maggie.
In Maggie's house there were Christmas
candles, but no tree and no other children
than the lonely little Maggie, whose two
little sisters had died of fever a year ago.
And her mother blessed Louise, who had
come in a sister's place to try to make Christ-
mas merry for her child.
It was almost dark when the two children
reached the house, and Maggie was left in
the kitchen with the little ones, while Jean-
nette and Louise, with an air of great impor-
tance, unlocked the sitting-room door and
went in. It w^as n't more than two minutes
before they threw open the door and called to
the expectant company that all was ready.
Don't laugh at the little tree standing in
a washtub and supported by bricks. Don't
laugh at the three lanterns — common stable
132 Each a7id AIL
lanterns — that are hung among its branches
in an attempt to illuminate it. Don't laugh
at anything, but think only of all the love,
and the hard work, and the long planning
that have gone into the preparation of this
Christmas tree ; and then it will seem beau-
tiful to you, as it does to me, and did to all
that happy little company when they saw
before them the Christmas surprise on which
those two little girls had employed them-
selves for the last month.
There were plenty of festoons of popped
corn, and there were little tufts of white
feathers, relieving here and there the dark
green of the foliage ; but, strictly speaking, it
was n't very brilliant. Instead of revealing
all its beauties at once, it disclosed them
slowly, and, indeed, some of them could only
be found and carefully taken off by the very
same fingers that had carefully tied them on.
You would have laughed with pleasure to
see all the pretty animals that Jeannette had
made; for each member of the family, his or
her favorite animal. Here was old Major,
the horse, made in the character of a paper-
Christmas Time for Louise, 133
weight ; Gretchen's white kitty, and Fritz's
dog ; and, to the great surprise of Louise, a
little brown owl for her.
I have n't told you how Louise had made
from pasteboard a pretty chintz-covered arm-
chair for her little sister's doll, and knitted
warm wristers for Fritz and Christian.
Her father's present had been the hardest
to make, or rather to plan, until one day her
watchful ears caught the words : " There
ought to be some safe place beyond the
reach of little Hans for keeping the news-
papers." You see newspapers were rare and
precious in that Western home.
Now, if you look under that low bough of
the Christmas tree, you will see the pretty
birch-bark newspaper holder, with a bit of
the Pen-se ribbon tied in to hang it by ; and
I think you and I can imagine how pleased
her father is to see that his little girl has
taken such thoughtful notice of his wishes.
But you know there are other presents
besides those that the children have made.
We have already heard of the chinchilla cap,
and for each of the other children the good
134 Each and All.
mother has contrived to produce some little
treasure from her old-time stores. A white
apron with pockets for Gretchen — she had
always wanted pockets — new red mittens
for Fritz, and a picture book pasted on cloth
for Hans. His father has made a pretty
sled of chestnut wood for Fritz, and he had
unpacked treasures for all from the box that
the uncles had sent from the Rhineland.
And suddenly the tree began to produce
fruits that Louise and Jeannette had not
dreamed of, for both father and mother had
entered heartily into the fun, and, hastily
bringing out treasures from their hiding
places, tied them on to the tree, and as
quickly took them off to distribute among
the happy children.
There was a little writing desk for Louise.
Peep into it and see its treasures — the ivory-
handled knife and paper cutter, the pens and
the paper — everything in order. I am sure
you remember where the ivory came from;
but do you suppose that Louise knows any-
thing about Manenko, from whose land it
came ? or did the little dark-skinned Ma-
Christmas Time for Louise. 135
nenko dream that the ivory tusks carried on
her father's shoulders were going to help
make a Christmas present for a fair-faced
little sister thousands of miles away ?
Then there were books, and pictures, too,
just in the right time, for now they have
walls whereon to hanQ^ them ; the locf walls
of last year hardly afforded a place.
" It begins to seem like our old home,"
said the mother, as she looked at the beauti-
ful old familiar picture from which the Ma-
donna and Child had smiled down upon her
when she was a little girl. It had been hard
to part with that when they came away from
the Rhineland, and now it had been saved,
and sent back to her.
Presently Louise spied a little white card
fluttering at the end of a branch, and, pull-
ing it down, she read from it the verses
that Christian had been writing on one of
those busy evenings when no one asked the
other, " What are you doing ? "
He had ornamented a plain white card
with a border of delicate-colored lines, and
written on the back these loving words.
136 Each and AIL
" For my dear brothers and sisters," and on
the other side the following little verses : —
We bear the Christmas message
Brought us so long ago.
Why have the centuries kept it fresh ?
Why do we prize it so ?
Because it is rich with the gold of love
That with bright, exhaustless flow,
From unfailing source in the heart Divine,
Supplies our hearts below.
And it tells of a tender human bond,
Since ever the world began,
For it teaches the Fatherhood of God,
The brotherhood of man.
But how can we carry the tidings,
Make each word as living and true
To the poor, the oppressed, and the lonely,
As they are to me and to you ?
Let them shine in thought, in word, in deed.
As we work out the heavenly plan ;
And, blessed by the Fatherhood of God,
Prove the brotherhood of man.
This Fatherhood could not leave them
wherever they might go, and I am glad that
Christmas Time for Louise. 137
they felt their brotherhood and sisterhood,
even so far away there in the Western world.
It was that that made them so happy, I
Have you all the time forgotten little
Maggie, who had come as a guest to the
Christmas tree }
Were n't there any presents for her ? Yes,
indeed, there w^ere. Louise had taken the
last bit of her blue ribbon, folded it in a
white paper, and written upon it : " A merry
Christmas for Maggie." Jeannette had run
home to look over her box of clay figures,
and had chosen the prettiest little cow
among them to mark with Maggie's name.
And the thoughtful mother had taken the
last new apron she had finished for Louise,
and put it on the tree for the little neighbor.
It was a merry Christmas all round, was n't
it.^ It ended with music from Christian's
violin, and then a hearty voice outside the
window sung a merry mountain song. That
must have been Joseph.
I wonder if they would have been any
happier if they had been dressed in silk
138 Each and All.
instead of calico, and had had a tree loaded
with the richest presents.
Do you see that the seven little sisters
are finding each other, sending each other
presents, sometimes even without knowing
it, and doing for each other many little
services such as sisters are always glad
Agoonack has learned from the Kudlunah,
Manenko from the Bazungu, that in this
great wide world there are many kinds of
children, but that one loving Father takes
care of them all.
Do you see that it has always been a
white man who has brought them this
knowledge of each other } It was the white
captain that brought Agoonack to New
York. It was the good Bazungu that car-
ried the brown baby's medicine to the little
sick Manenko, and it was the English lady
who brought the same to our poor little
Arab Gemila, who would have died if she
had taken nothing but the fakir's curious
Christmas Time for Louise. 1 39
It was an American ship that took the
silk that Pen-se had wound off the cocoons,
and carried it to the ribbon weavers who
made the blue ribbon for Louise.
Most of you, dear children, who read this
book, are children of the white man's part
of our Father's great family. And yet I hope
some little dark-faced sisters may read it, too.
But to us of the white race some gifts have
been given which as yet are not shared by
our dark-skinned sisters.
You remember that neither Manenko, nor
Gemila, nor Pen-se, nor Agoonack can read.
No schools for them, no books, and nothing
of all the happiness that comes to you
through books. Think of it; not only in
that respect, but in others besides, you have
had more and greater gifts than they.
Now consider what you would do if some
day, when you were at home with your
brothers and sisters, a great bountiful basket
of presents should come for you, and noth-
ing for them.
I am sure I know what would be your
first thought. And if, in the wider family
140 Each and ALL
of the world, you see yourself with gifts of
knowledge or of happiness beyond those of
your neighbors, you will know what to do.
But do not think that these little sisters
have done nothing for you.
Did not Gemila's caravan carry the gum ?
Did not Agoonack's father build the snow
houses and kill the seals, without which the
white men would have died 1 And did not
Manenko's people bring the great tusks of
ivory } Does not Pen-se tend the silkworms
carefully and well, and so have silk to make
ribbons and dresses for you and your mam-
They each work faithfully and well in
their own way ; and faithful work, be it the
work of the wisest man or of a little child, is
never wasted or lost.
They are all helping each other, as loving
sisters should, and perhaps some day they
will meet and will realize how each in her
own little way has done some service for the
EACH AND ALL.
PRONUNCIATION. — a, e, i, o, u, as '\a./ate, mete, site, rope, tube; a,
e, 1, 6, u, as in hat, met, bit, not, cut; a, e, i, b, ii, as in /ar, her, fir, 7ior,
ctir ; a, e, i, o, u, as in mental, travel, peril, idoj, forum; ee, as va. feet ; 66,
as in hoot; ou, as in bough; 6u, as in croup; ^h, as in chair.
Ah Fou, Ah' Fou'.
Dom, Doom, a palm-tree.
El Bahr, El' Bahr'.
Igloe, Ig'-loe, a hut.
Nalegak Soak, Na'-le-gak S6'-ak.
Tsetse, Tset'-se, an insect.
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